For the Better
by Kavi Leighanna
Summary: 2008 Annual Christmas Story. The holidays can bring about a lot of changes and even the members of the BAU aren't immune to a good bout of holiday cheer. And maybe a little mistletoe. Hotch/Prentiss
1. Craft Time

**_I almost forgot about this!_**

**_Ladies and gentlemen and anyone/thing else reading this, welcome to Kavi Leighanna's 2008 Christmas Fic! _**

**_Here's how this works: I try my dardest to write a chapter and post a chapter for every day in December leading up to Christmas. If I get behind, I usually post a number of them a day to make sure I keep up. The goal is to have 25 chapters. Last year's ended up with 24 and I swear, there was nothing I could do about it._**

**_Anything is fair game. Cases, fluff, Jack, and there is the possibility of spoilers for episodes leading up to this point and possibly the ones that have yet to air. Most years I pick a pairing. This year, like all of the other Criminal Minds stories I've written in literally the last year - my first HotchPrentiss story was last year's Christmas story - it will be focused on Emily and Hotch's developing relationships. _**

**_Enjoy!_**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_December 1, 2008_

_--  
_

Christmas always brought out the happier side of Aaron Hotchner. He wasn't sure what it was, especially since he couldn't exactly credit his own childhood with fostering such a love of the holiday, but there was something about Christmas that changed him. The minute December first rolled around, he started to anticipate the days of red and green. It helped that he'd managed to secure the week of Christmas off for him and the entirety of his team.

There was nothing short of the apocalypse that would be able to draw him back into the office for that week. He and Haley had managed to come to an agreement regarding the holidays and their six-year-old son, Jack. The little boy would be picked up by his father from school the Friday before the holidays and stay with him until noon on Christmas day. Then Hotch would return Jack to his mother. The idea of having five uninterrupted days with his son was more than appealing.

Hotch had felt a little bit like a small child when he'd glanced at the calendar to see it was indeed December first. Which also meant his ex-wife was due to drop said son off any minute. Their custody agreement also included provisions for Jack to see his father at least once a week, excluding weekends and providing Hotch was staying in the city.

He saw Haley and Jack enter the office and found himself standing and almost rushing to the door.

"Daddy!"

Hotch caught and swung his son up into his arms with no regard for the team still milling about the bullpen. "Hey Buddy."

"Hiya Daddy!"

The enthusiasm in Jack was infectious and he found himself grinning at his exuberance.

Haley handed the boy's bag over to his father. Inside were colouring books and activities for the boy while his father finished up in the office. She'd asked to drop him off because she had her own plans for the evening. Hotch would drop him off after dinner. "That should be everything."

"Thanks for dropping him off, Haley," Hotch said sincerely. Things had been strained as they'd worked out the conditions of custody and the divorce agreement, but it had also given both of them a chance to express a lot of different things and Hotch now understood that they'd simply grown apart. Sure, it was, in large part, due to his job, but he didn't exactly regret his choices now and he knew she understood he had to do what he had to do. The BAU was Aaron Hotchner and Haley simply hadn't understood that.

"Do you know what time you'll have him home?"

"Probably around 8," Hotch replied, bouncing the giggling little boy.

"Okay."

"Say bye to Mommy, Jack."

After smacking kisses and little tickles, Haley departed, leaving Hotch with a six-year-old and tones of paperwork to finish before they could head out. His attention was so focused on Jack that he missed the pair of dark eyes that followed his every movement up the stairs and into his office.

Emily Prentiss watched her boss settle his son, the boy with Haley's chin and nose but otherwise the spitting image of his father, onto the couch that dominated one wall of his office, spreading the child out with various activities from the backpack Haley had left behind. She couldn't help but smile, her own heart excitedly set on the family holiday that made December a hectic month.

It was nice to see Hotch happy and much freer than she was used to. There had been many a night she'd stayed back in the office, not only for David Rossi, her colleague and close friend, but for Hotch too. She wasn't sure Hotch was even aware of it, but it made her feel better to know that there was someone there with him and he wasn't left behind in the office by himself at night. She'd continued the practice even after Rossi had started leaving at a half-decent time and though Hotch had never made any sort of overture towards noticing, acknowledging or thanking her, it wasn't what she was looking for.

She tried to turn back to her paperwork, the tail end of it anyway, but she couldn't seem to stop glancing up at Jack as he coloured away on the small table in front of the couch. That continued for about an hour before she could tell the child was getting restless. It was natural child mentality, especially at Jack's young age. She wasn't surprised it was difficult for the little boy to keep himself quietly occupied with crayons for hours on end. If his looks said anything about his personality, the child was bound to be an active one.

Luckily for her, it didn't take her longer than a half an hour to complete the remainder of her paperwork. She took in the Hotchner males. She could hear Jack's little voice carrying over the soft buzz of the bullpen and though she knew Hotch adored his little boy, it couldn't be easy to concentrate on his own work with the child blabbering away. However, the crayons and colours gave her an idea. With a small, slightly triumphant smile, Emily folded up her work and carried the closed files up to Hotch's office. There were a few things he had to sign off on anyway.

"Hey Hotch," she greeted, knocking on the door. "I need your signature on a few of these before I can send them to the archives."

Hotch nodded as Emily stepped closer, the files outstretched. "I'll do it now."

She smiled her thanks before seating herself in a chair by her supervisor's desk. She could feel little curious eyes on her and she smiled to herself before glancing backwards, then pretending to do a double take. "And who is this handsome boy?"

Hotch couldn't keep the smile from tilting the corners of his mouth. "This is Jack. Jack, come say 'hello'."

The six-year-old was shy as he made his way over to the pretty dark-haired lady, his pointer finger straying close to his mouth. He stopped beside her chair, looking up at her with large, dark eyes. "Hewow," he said quietly, around his finger.

"Hello, Mr Jack," Emily said solemnly, holding out her hand. She almost grinned when Jack shook her hand with a severely serious expression on his face. She wondered if Hotch realized how much like him Jack was. She was sure he'd be proud of it if he ever found out. "My name is Emily."

The little boy tilted his head to the side, considering her. She seemed nice enough, though he'd always been more wary of adults than he had of children. "I'm colouring," he said seriously.

Emily glanced at her supervisor, almost stunned by the curious way he was watching them. "Can I see?"

Jack nodded, scampering back to the table to grab the pages, knocking crayons to the floor in the process. He presented the pages to her in a jumbled chunk.

Carefully, Emily separated the newsprint, smiling at the Christmas theme of the pictures. "You don't like Christmas, do you?" she asked, smiling at the young boy.

He nodded. "Tha's Santa and the elfs… And Rudolph!"

Emily laughed heartily at the child's enthusiasm. "Christmas is my favourite season," she confided in a quiet voice, as if bestowing on Jack a big secret.

His eyes lit up. "Me too! Daddy! Em'ly likes Christmas!"

Hotch actually chuckled, his shoulders shaking with the expression and Emily had to rack her brain for the last time, if any, she could remember Hotch laughing. "What's your favourite part of Christmas?" Emily asked.

"All of it!" Jack exclaimed exuberantly. "Presents!"

That was what she'd expected. She set the papers in her lap with a look of consideration on her face. Jack had played into her hand better than she'd ever expected. "Well I have an idea, if you and your daddy don't mind."

"An idea?" Hotch asked. This was as open towards him as he'd ever seen his brunette colleague, as soft as she'd ever been and he could only chalk it up to his six-year-old son. Children always brought out a different side of people. He wasn't surprised when she addressed the idea to Jack instead of to him.

"You already have crayons and we have paper and I'd bet there is someone around here with glue and scissors. What do you say, Mr Jack, to making decorations with me?" It had always been one of her favourite parts of the holiday season.

Jack turned wide eyes to his father. "Can I?"

Hotch considered this for a moment. He trusted Emily, that wasn't a question and it was a tempting offer, especially since it would keep Jack's attention for enough time to allow him to finish his paperwork. Still, Jack was his responsibility and he felt a little off about all but foisting him off on his subordinate.

"Please Daddy?" The idea of decorations really appealed to him and he wanted to spend more time with the pretty lady Daddy worked with. She actually talked to him. And she smelled yummy. Like fruit.

Emily looked sincere about the offer. "Okay," he acquiesced.

"Yay!" Jack exclaimed.

"Yay!" Emily agreed laughing. "Pack up your crayons, okay? We're going to need them. And I'll be right back."

* * *

With the peace and quiet he'd been afforded when Emily took Jack, it didn't take Hotch long to finish the work he'd been doing. Well, relatively speaking anyway. Since Haley had dropped the boy off right after school, Jack had been at the BAU for just over three hours, half of which, he'd spent with Emily. Now, however, Hotch had every intention of taking his boy out for dinner. The files could wait until tomorrow to be dropped off.

He fully intended to make the next few minutes quick. He wanted as much uninterrupted time with his son as he could get and bond with him as best one could bond with a six-year-old, but the minute he looked into the conference room – where Jack and Emily had set up shop – his entire opinion changed. Jack was perched on her lap, watching as she carefully cut out a shape, explaining something to him all the while. The boy looked absolutely enraptured as Emily unfolded the page into a perfectly beautiful snowflake. His smile was wide and broad, carefree and Emily's was too.

Why hadn't he noticed that smile before? It definitely wasn't the first time he'd seen it. On the contrary, he had to have seen it many times, for she wasn't a terribly depressed individual. It was wide an uninhibited, brought out by the simple happiness of the little boy perched on her lap. Instead of rushing to the conference room, he took his time, watching both of them, watching as Jack squirmed when Emily tickled his sides. His son had definitely taken to her and now that he looked at her this way, away from the cases and the workload and every stress she'd probably ever felt, he could see why. She was actually startlingly beautiful.

"Daddy!"

Hotch scooped his son into his arms like he'd done hours before, catching sight of the soft smile on Emily's face before she busied herself with cleaning up their mess. "Did you have fun?"

"We made trees and Santas and Em'ly even cut out a Rudolph!"

Hotch was actually surprised by that revelation. It couldn't be easy to cut out a reindeer from paper, but he could see the evidence on the dark wooden table when he stepped into the room. All of their projects were safely piled in one corner of the table, by the chair that held Jack's backpack. He put Jack down and the child all but climbed onto the table to help Emily clean up their mess. He came up beside her, gathering a handful of nearby crayons and taking the box she held out to him. "Thank you."

Her smile was bright and genuine and it made his heart flip. "It was no problem, Hotch. He's a great kid."

"He didn't give you any trouble?"

"None at all," Emily promised. "Right Jack?"

Jack clenched his hand in the sleeve of her sweater. "I even glued!"

Hotch arched an eyebrow and Emily shrugged. "I kept him away from the scissors."

He looked at the snowflake Jack was trying to carefully pile with his other things. "I don't know if I'll be able to."

"Safety scissors work just as well," she promised. "He'll be able to make his own snowflakes without worry of poking his eyes out."

Between them, they managed to clean things up fairly quickly and Emily even produced an envelope for Jack to store the decorations in.

"Can Em'ly come with us Daddy?" Jack asked innocently.

Hotch glanced at the woman in question, noticing the surprise and anxiousness in her gaze. "Not this time, Buddy," he said. "Maybe some other time." He knew it was enough to placate the child for now without putting Emily in an awkward situation.

Jack pouted but seemed to understand. "Okay." Then, in a regular mercurial shift in mood, he was happy again. "Let's go, Daddy! I wanna go to the Cheese place!"

Hotch sighed. Haley had mentioned that the birthday party of one of his friends almost three months ago had the boy addicted to Chuck E. Cheese. He'd never understand the draw of the place, personally, but out of the last six times the two Hotchner men had headed out to dinner, four of them had been dinner at said restaurant. "Say thank you."

Jack latched on to Emily's arm, hugging it tightly. "Thank you Em'ly!"

She laughed, her other hand ruffling the boy's hair. "You're welcome."

Jack hopped down off of his chair, tugging on his father's pant leg. "Let's _go_!"

Emily smiled. "Go ahead," she reassured her supervisor. "If you've got all of his things, I can finish cleaning up here."

He wanted to argue at how unfair it was that she not only occupied his son for the last hour and a half, but she was cleaning up after him too, but he also wanted to spend time with Jack.

"Go," she reassured. "There isn't much left anyway."

His hand reached out on its own accord to squeeze her forearm. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"You're welcome, Hotch."

* * *

_**So, there is the beginning of this year's 25-Chapter Christmas extravaganza! I'm excited.**_

_**Now, this is not part of any series nor does it have anything to do with any other story I've written. Its most definitely Emily/Hotch focused and centered and I have a plan for them for every day in December up until Christmas. Depending on how I'm feeling at the end of December we'll see if I can extend that into the new year, but I make no guarantees. The goal is 25 chapters**_

_**As always, I'm open to suggestions. In fact, I'm missing ideas for something like 4 days of December! They're later days, so no worries, but I am more than open to your ideas or Christmas traditions. If there's anything you guys usually do around the holiday season, I'd like to know.**_

_**Reviews are always loved and appreciated anyway!**_


	2. Christmas Melodies

**Chapter 2**

_December 2, 2008_

--

Emily was frazzled and the fault fell on a pair of small six-year-old shoulders. She'd been more than happy to look after young Jack Hotchner the previous day to give his father a chance to finish up his paperwork, but the boy had managed to find his way into some rather disconcerting dreams of hers later that night. Sure, Emily had been struck with the way her supervisor was with his son and she'd actually probably been one of the few people to see the warmer side of Aaron Hotchner, but that didn't mean her subconscious had to conjure up pictures of her own child.

A child that looked remarkably like her and her supervisor.

It had happened every time she had closed her eyes and Emily came into work that morning, grumpy and disgruntled. Since she was the first into the bullpen – though both Hotch and Rossi were there, if the light in their offices was any indication – she plunked down in her chair with an interesting study a friend of hers in the research department had found and plugged her headphones into her laptop. Christmas music was bound to calm her down at least a little bit considering the season.

It was how she worked through the entirety of the day. She kept her earbuds in, only pulling them out for a phone call or a question. She tried to focus, but apparently that day wasn't going to be as cooperative as her first. Even working steadily through the day without interruption from the rest of the people around her, she couldn't seem to make her brain get the right set of words for what she wanted to say, nor could she seem to get herself to focus on the consults on her desk.

Emily sighed, rolling her shoulders and glancing around the bullpen for the first time in probably four or five hours. The lights at the various desks in the bullpen were off, signaling the lack of people in the place and she blew out a breath. Unplugging her headphones she leaned back in her chair and let the music float over her, her dark eyes falling closed as she tried to calm down her body and brain. She'd been sitting upright and tense for the large majority of her time in the office and she was starting to feel it.

_Fall on your knees  
Oh hear the angel voices  
Oh night divine  
Oh night when Christ was born_

"Do you always listen to music in the office?"

Emily jolted upright, her surprised eyes locking onto her supervisor's. "Sorry, Hotch. I didn't know anyone else was in the office." She hoped her skittishness didn't show through.

"So you only listen to music when there's no one else around."

Why the heck did he care? What did it matter? There was no one else around, so it wasn't like it was bothering anyone… "It's better than listening to silence."

--

"It doesn't distract you?" He had no idea why he was questioning this, had no idea why he cared, but since the previous day, he'd been unable to get his curiosity about her out of his head. She was fantastic with children and she was an artist in her own right. Jack had shown him the reindeer ornament and he'd been impressed with her artistic skill. It made him wonder what else the usually reserved woman was keeping back.

"I work better when there's sound," she admitted. "And the earbuds keep people away."

He had noticed she'd been wearing them almost all day and wondered in passing why, but it wasn't his place to ask. And of course he had noticed. He'd been watching her all day, not that he'd ever admit it, even under oath in a court of law. She'd surprised him yesterday with the side of her she showed to Jack. As he'd lain awake the night before, unable to make his eyes close in sleep, he'd contemplated the other side of his subordinate. When he'd finally managed to drift off, he'd made a decision. He'd try and learn more about the woman he'd all but treated as a plague in his unit for years. There was so much he didn't know about her.

He cocked his head to the side as he took in the words. He knew that to get her to open up to him would mean he would probably have to open up to her first. "This is my favourite Christmas song."

She looked almost startled by that revelation. "Mine too," she said. "Well, and _It Came Upon a Midnight Clear._"

"Also an excellent choice," he agreed. "I wanted to thank you, again, for watching Jack yesterday. He really enjoyed it." He could have killed himself at her blush. He couldn't remember ever seeing her do it.

"He was a pleasure, Hotch," Emily replied. "He's a fantastic kid. A lot like you, actually."

That came as a surprise. He figured Jack would display characteristics more like his mother since he spent so much time with Haley. "Really?"

"Mmhmm," Emily replied, closing her eyes to let the music wash over her. "Your intensity, concentration… looks like you too."

That much he knew. He looked around the office, double checking that there was indeed no one else around. Then he took a deep breath, a big chance. "Do you mind if I work out here?"

Her eyes flew open. "Here?"

Hotch waved to Morgan's desk. "I still have some things to finish, a few consults, things like that. Do you mind if I work out here?"

--

If she was honest with herself, no, she didn't mind in the slightest. She always felt terrible that she was working down in the bullpen and he was all alone in his office. It didn't really foster the team dynamic for Hotch as it did for the rest of them. She tilted her head to the side, considering him. "I have a better idea."

"Okay."

"Can we work in the conference room? There's so much more room in there to spread things out."

He smiled then, not the carefree one she'd seen with Jack yesterday, but enough to bring out just a hint of his dimples. "So long as there's Christmas music.

She actually found herself laughing. "Of course."

"Then you're on."

* * *

Emily closed her condo door behind her, locking it more out of habit than conscious effort. It was eleven o'clock at night. It had been Hotch that had brought her attention to the time. She'd been so wrapped up in her consults – and his as they bounced ideas off of each other – that she hadn't even realized it had gotten so late. It had actually been a fun experience, not quite like the paperwork campfire sessions she, Reid and Derek sometimes had in the bullpen, but it gave her a warm fuzzy feeling nonetheless.

For one thing, Hotch had actually laughed. Emily knew she had a habit of giving non-behavioural advice out loud for consults. She and Derek often exchanged smartass comments about the work they were doing. It made time go faster and made what was usually a mundane task half decently interesting. She'd been almost mortified the first time she'd blurted out a comment.

"Too bad I can't write that," he'd said wryly before turning back to the papers.

It had instantly put her at ease again. The second time she'd done it, she'd known the comment was absolutely absurd. He'd gone quiet for a moment before bursting into laughter. Emily had sat there for a moment, stunned, before joining in.

When they were down in the parking garage after packing up, Hotch had grabbed her elbow just as they were about to split for their separate cars and dark homes. He'd thanked her for a nice time, for reminding him that work could be fun, for letting him listen to her Christmas carols. Emily had told him it was tradition.

"_Tradition?"_

"_Yeah. Every year I put together a new Christmas CD."_

"_Every year?"_

_Emily shrugged, realizing just how much she was sharing. Her Christmas traditions were personal and she'd never considered herself close enough to Hotch to share so much as a work ritual, let alone a Christmas one. "I get sick of a few songs every year so instead of skipping them on the CD, I just make a new one."_

"_You have that much Christmas music?" He seemed actually surprised at the notion._

_Emily laughed. "Hotch, you need to get out more. There are tonnes of songs out there for Christmas."_

"_Show me."_

_She rolled her eyes but brought out her iPod, stored safely in her purse. She quickly scrolled through the music until she found her Christmas genre, then handed the small device over to him. "There's multiple versions of the same songs, but the number is still pretty high."_

_He looked almost awed as he scrolled down through her list. There were so many songs. "Wow. Where did you get this?"_

"_Collected it over time," she said honestly, taking the iPod back, trying to hide her reaction when their fingers brushed. She wasn't some teenaged girl for goodness sakes. Her insides didn't melt at the simplest touch. Or so she'd thought. They were currently and rather effectively proving her wrong._

"_It's impressive."_

_She felt inexplicably happy that she'd managed to impress him. She smiled. "Goodnight Hotch."_

"_Goodnight, Emily," he replied. "I had fun tonight."_

"_Me too," she agreed. "Thanks."_

Then they'd gone their separate ways. Except he hadn't left her head. She went to her CD player, pulling her Christmas CD from the case she kept it in for the car. She went about the motions of putting it in, pressing play and allowing the music to float over her. She chewed on her lip, toying with an idea floating around in her head. He'd seemed so seriously surprised to see how many Christmas songs she'd had. She almost felt bad. But there was a quick and easy way to remedy that.

So she sat down at her computer and put a blank CD into the drive.


	3. Tree Light Killer

**Chapter 3**

_December 3, 2008_

--

Lexie Howard loved Christmas lights. It was her thing, it was her Christmas. So, as she stood outside her house in Bozeman, Montana surveying the bare rafters and eaves, she chewed her lip. It was always a task to plan out exactly how she would hang her lights. She aimed to be the best on her little street, the house that everyone took pictures of during the annual tour of lights. It was important to her to have the best and so she meticulously planned out where each string would go every year.

"You look pensive."

Lexie turned swiftly, relaxing when she realized it was simply her next-door neighbour. "Mason, you scared me."

"Sorry," he said with a smile. "You're easy to spook."

She smiled. "You haven't heard the stories?"

"Stories?"

"Mmm," she said, turning her attention back to her house. "There's a Tree Light Killer."

Mason raised an eyebrow. "A what?"

"Come on, Mason, you've lived in this town for how long? You have to know about the Tree Light Killer."

"Never heard of one."

Lexie arched a skeptical eyebrow at him. "Someone dies every December. For the last three years anyway. All strangled with Christmas lights."

"Hence Tree Light."

"Exactly."

"Then why are you standing out here all by yourself?" Mason asked.

"Someone's got to hang these lights and Jake's on a business trip. Won't be back until tomorrow night. The light tour starts tonight so I have to get these up today."

"Want some help?"

Lexie turned her most dazzling smile on him. "Do you mind?"

"Of course not."

* * *

"And this is one of our most beautiful houses on the tour." Dean Williams had been the host of Bozeman's Christmas Light Tour for almost thirty years and he proudly presented every house on the route.

Cameras went up, clicking away at the house and it's lights sparkling against the darkness of the house. There were oohs and ahhs at the lights, at the design, at the sparkle.

"Mister?"

Dean looked down at the little boy, no older than seven. "What is it, son?"

"Is there supposed to be a _person_ hanging from the roof?"

* * *

"Alexis Howard is the latest victim in a four year crime stint."

Emily raised an eyebrow at Jennifer "JJ" Jareau. "Four years?" Her calm exterior held tight, even though her insides were practicing for the circus. She'd left a CD of music on Hotch's desk that morning and nothing had come of it. Of course, she'd been surrounded by her colleagues all day so it wouldn't surprise her that he wouldn't approach her.

"Not just four years," Derek Morgan asked, glancing though the file. "December of the last four years."

"What's so special about December?" Reid asked, looking though the file, reading it at his abnormally fast speed.

"They call him the Tree Light Killer," JJ responded, bringing up the crime scene photos.

David Rossi squinted, leaning forward to try and see some detail in the pictures. "What is the extra indentation along the ligature line?"

"Christmas lights, according to autopsy." Emily answered, looking down at the information in front of her. "So he's strangling them with Christmas lights?"

"Sure looks that way," Rossi agreed.

"But he only comes out in December. Why?"

"He feels more comfortable in the snow?" Emily quipped, a smile tilting the corner of her mouth. She was hyper-aware of her supervisor sitting beside her silently. He hadn't contributed anything to their brainstorming session and if it wasn't for the fact that she could see him flip through his pages out of the corner of her eye, she'd have wondered if he was even alive and breathing.

"There's got to be something about December that makes him attack," Derek agreed. "And always in the first couple of weeks."

"Christmas, maybe?" Rossi replied cheekily.

"No one but you hates Christmas Dave," Emily quipped. "Families are all the same. There's always children, always a husband, but something has to set him off. They don't look that much alike."

It was true, Victim one was a blond-haired, brown-eyed five-foot-five woman. She was slight and small, and a stay at home mom. An easy target. Victim two was a green-eyed woman with shoulder-length raven hair. She was fit, trim, probably a runner if Emily had any sort of ability to see that type of thing. She was completely capable of fighting off an attacker. The third was another blonde, but more like JJ with blue eyes and a wide smile. She was average in every sense of the word. A teacher, her days were marked by routine according to the police files she'd been able to skim. Alexis Howard, their final victim, was a dark brunette with blue eyes, a striking contrast.

"I think it's safe to say they knew their attackers," she volunteered. "None of them fought back."

"So he's strong enough to take on these women. They're not all little wisps," Derek agreed. "And they know him."

"By the time they realize what's going on, it's already too late," Hotch said, his voice monotonous, but the sentiment striking each agent to the bone. "Wheels up in twenty."

* * *

The plane was quiet as it flew over the continental United States. Reid had his book and Derek had his headphones on, his head bopping to the music though his eyes were closed. Rossi was looking over the file for the hundredth time and JJ was snuggled fast asleep on the bench. Emily sat back in the corner, headphones in, book of crosswords in front of her when Hotch slid in across the table.

"Hey," he said softly, not willing to interrupt the quiet of the plane.

She'd looked up as he sat down, the movement catching her eye. She smiled, pulling one headphone out of her ear. "Hey."

"How long have you been doing those?" he asked, gesturing to the book.

She tried not to roll her eyes. "Since Gideon left. Before, actually."

He nodded. Silence fell.

She filled in another group of boxes, humming slightly and absently.

Hotch grinned. "Emily?"

She was surprised by his grin. It took her off guard, so much so that her heart fluttered almost uncomfortably. He needed to smile like that more often. "Mmhmm?" She forced her hand to keep from shaking as she filled in another word. Over the years, she'd gotten quite good, she knew that.

"Thank you."

That brought her head back up. "I'm sorry?"

"Thank you," he said again.

"Okay," she chuckled lightly. "For?"

"The CD."

Emily cursed herself for the blush she could feel creeping up her cheeks. "It was no problem."

Hotch's smile widened.

Emily felt herself smiling back and almost laughing. "It was a CD. I make one every year but I have my iPod..." She almost gasped when he reached across to take the little white earbud from where it was dangling next to the other. She moved her head forward as he pulled the bud towards him. Her breath caught.

"Do you mind?"

She shook her head when he indicated he wanted to listen. She shot a quick glance around the plane, partially happy to see no one was looking. _It Came Upon a Midnight Clear_ was still floating into her ear. "You know what makes me want to catch this guy?" she blurted, still disconcerted that he was so close to her.

He arched an eyebrow. "Other than the fact that he's killed four people?"

"Mmhmm," she answered, propping her chin on the hand not holding her pen. "The fact that he's killed four people _at Christmas_ for the last four years."

His lips tilted upwards. "It does seem unfair."

"Unfair? Blasphemous. I would think another Christmas lover such as yourself would see the inherent sacrilegious nature of this."

He chuckled at the obvious teasing tone in her voice. Working on paperwork and talking about Christmas music and now teasing. It made him think of his brunette colleague in a completely different light. He'd never thought something as simple as Christmas could bridge the last bit of the gap between him and the woman he hadn't wanted on his team to begin with, Between seeing her with Jack, spending the night doing consults with her and learning about her obsession with Christmas music, Emily had surprised him almost daily And he liked it.

Emily had to admit that the difference in their relationship was almost painfully obvious. But it wasn't a bad change by any means. In fact, if anything, she was happy the change was happening. Hotch had always had her off guard, always kept her off guard. Something was changing between them and she wasn't sure what it was or how it would end. And that made her very unsure of whether she even wanted it to happen. Sure, she liked that there was a friendship blossoming between them. That was important. He trusted her professionally, she knew that, but it seemed like he was starting to trust her personally.

And it had all started with an afternoon cutting out Christmas decorations with none other than the same man's son.

* * *

**_This wasn't the original Chapter 3, but a more comprehensive one._**

**_Wish me luck on my exam tomorrow!_**


	4. Traditionally Untraditional

**Chapter 4**

_December 4, 2008_

--

Hotch wandered down the steps to the lobby, restless and antsy. The beginnings of cases were always the worst when it came to energy. There was always too much of it and not enough places to or ways to deal with it. So he often walked.

"Emmy, share with your sister."

He stopped at the sound of Emily's voice and the humour he could hear in the rebuke. He'd never met any of his team on his wanders. Who was she talking to? He knew she was an only child and he was sure she didn't have any children...

"Again? But I tell you that story every year!"

Story time? So they were definitely children. He turned the corner to find her curled into an arm of one of the lobby couches. She looked comfortable, delicate, and surprisingly relaxed considering they were currently on a case. Emily had kicked her shoes off and they were neatly settled beside the small smile as he noticed bright pink snowmen on her socks. Sometimes it was terrifying how easy it was for her to surprise him.

"You two must know this story better than I do. Why don't you tell it to me?"

Two children. And the last time he could remember seeing her as relaxed as this was the afternoon she'd spent with Jack in the BAU conference room. He found his heart jumping as he realized again that Emily Prentiss would make a fantastic mother.

He approached her slowly, part of him unsurprised to see the case file spread open in front of her. She was an agent through and through, even while on the phone with two children. He returned the smile she greeted him with and wordlessly asked if he could join her. Surprise flitted over her face, but she nodded.

"Luis," she said with an affectionate smile. "Luis is the stirring mouse." She chuckled before taking a breath. "Emmy and Carrie were all snug in their beds as visions of American Girl dolls danced in their heads."

Hotch smiled, absently flipping through the file she had. Emily had a habit of making notes directly o n the case files beside the information. He'd seen her doing it, but this was the first time he'd had a chance to actually read them.

"When up on the roof there arose such a clatter, I sprung from my bed, to see what was the matter."

He tried to ignore the melodic cadence her voice had taken on with the rhythm of rhyming. She laughed at something one of the girls said and he glanced over at her. She was smiling softly, her eyes sparkling. Her face was an open book of contentment and relaxation and he found himself hoping to see that more often.

"Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night. Alright bed time for you two. Be good for your mom for me, okay?" She laughed. "I'm away for work right now, but I promise to call when I get home. Kiss your mom for me." The smile stayed on her face as she hung up.

"You know that story by heart?"

Emily chuckled slightly. "I used to read it almost every night around Christmas when I was a kid. It's one of my most important traditions.

"Jack loves it too," he answered, closing the file.

"The story version?"

He smiled wryly. "The Bugs Bunny version."

She chuckled. "Always a classic."

"You watch it?" He really shouldn't be surprised by that.

"Every year with my nieces," she replied, starting to pack up the files. "Christmas movies are everyone's tradition."

His brow wrinkled. "Nieces? You're an only child."

Emily nodded. "I met a woman volunteering. She's a single mother with two little girls, Emmeline and Carissa. I keep an eye on them. We've known each other long enough that they're pretty much my 'nieces'." She turned to face him, crossing her legs beneath her.

Not her children. He ignored the relief he felt at that idea. "They're Christmas fanatics?"

"They're tradition fanatics," she replied. "Anne works a lot to support them. I watch them whenever I can and check up on her."

Hotch appreciated her honesty. "How old?"

"Emmy's eight, Carissa's six," she answered. "Both huge girly girls."

He nodded, filing that information away.

"Oh! I was going to tell you this tomorrow, but since you're here, I noticed a few things about the victims I found interesting."

"Interesting?"

She moved closer to him to read the file over his shoulder and he was assaulted by the warm vanilla scent of her. His stomach twisted and his body tensed. They hadn't been this close when they were working together in his office.

"You okay?"

He tried to force himself to relax. "What did you notice?"

"They have a Christmas light tour every year," she began. "I had Garcia look it up and it's a pretty big thing here."

"Okay," he said, willing his body to ignore hers.

"They award the best house and it's prestigious in the community. Turns out that not only have our victims been married to business men who do a lot of traveling for their jobs, but they've all won these awards."

"Is that how he picks his victims?" he asked in a murmur. He felt more than saw her shrug.

"I had Garcia look into the second and third place contestants, people who had won it many times previously who hadn't won it since these women started showing up dead… nothing."

Thoroughness was one of the attributes that made her such a good agent. "Anything else?"

"No," she said with an encouraging smile. "But it's only the first day."

He sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Do you think he'll kill again?"

Emily shrugged. "His pattern says no."

She tried not to show surprise. She tried to keep her gut instincts under wraps preferring to be able to back them up with facts or figures just in case. "My gut hopes that he's done for the year."

"And if he's not…"

"We know he's devolving."

The way she effortlessly finished his sentence made his heart jump in his chest. "Christmas…"

"It's one person, Hotch," she said, leaning her elbow by his shoulder, either unaware or disregarding how close they were. "Christmas is whatever you want it to be."

"Wise words."

She chuckled a little. Then silence fell. He looked over at her surprised to find a tense look on her face. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she replied, her face relaxing marginally.

He knew it wasn't true, but he knew getting her to open up would require honesty on his part. Emily didn't hide behind agendas and double entendres. She was straight and to the point and had made that clear to him in her first few days at the BAU. More than that, honesty was a necessity in her life, and not just the vague honesty that one could often get away with, but brutal honesty that stripped a person bare of all of their emotions, faults and good traits. Which was why he needed to tread carefully. "My dad used to work through Christmas."

He didn't have to look at her to know he had her attention completely. "Sean and I… it worked better for us that he wasn't home. My mom made Christmas everything she thought it should be. Presents, dinner, decorations…. That's why I love Christmas."

"I used to pretend every year that my cousin's family was mine," she replied softly.

When he looked at her, her eyes had taken on a far-off quality and he frowned. This wasn't a happy memory. Not really.

"Mother worked, which was no surprise. She'd drag me to all of the required functions in December, then ship me back to the states, to Connecticut, to stay with my cousins. My cousin, Sabrina, and I used to have the best Christmases, baking cookies, playing in the snow…"

He could picture a little Emily doing all of those things.

Then she shrugged, an obvious attempt at nonchalance he'd let her have. "Christmas is what you make it."

"Is that what you teach Emmeline and Carissa?"

She smiled at the name of the two little girls. "I make sure they have a Christmas if Anne is too busy. She works so hard for those girls, it's the least I can do. I never get them anything extravagant, I don't want to outdo, Anne, but she and I have an agreement. So long as those girls believe in Santa they'll get the one material gift they want every year, whatever it is."

"It's a good thing you're doing for those girls," he told her frankly, reaching out until his hand rested on her knee, squeezing slightly. "They're lucky to have you."

She blew out a breath. "It's one way to give back," she agreed. "Give someone happiness with all of the sadness and death we see on the job."

"It always comes back to the job."

She smiled sadly.

He squeezed her knee again. "Let's pack this in for the night. Go to bed." He knew she was an insomniac, but that didn't mean he could try to send her to bed anyway. He helped her pack up her files, waited for her to put her shoes back on, then walked with her to her room since it came first.

She turned at her door. "I'm sorry you had to listen to my childhood drama."

He shook his head, both to get the idea of kissing her out of his head and express how he didn't mind. "Everyone has childhood problems."

She smiled, reaching out to squeeze his arm. "Thank you," she said sincerely.

He started off down the hall, his arm tingling, his heart pounding and his head swimming. It wouldn't have taken him much effort at all to lean down and-

"Hotch?"

He turned back in surprise to see her empty-handed, but standing apprehensively in her doorway. He swallowed, trying to tell himself she wasn't about to call him back to ask him to ravage her all night long "Yes?"

"I saw a flyer for a gift wrap tomorrow. If we get the time, would you like to go with me?"

Well he certainly didn't want her going by herself. They were in a different city and she had to know the statistic for a beautiful woman like her. He certainly did. "Gift wrap?"

"Yeah," she nodded, curls bouncing attractively. "Wrapping gifts for needy kids. I would be doing it at home if I was there, the nearest children's shelter usually does theirs this week, but I don't know when I'm going to get home…"

"And you like to do it."

She smiled. "For the kids."

He nodded. "I'd love to."

She blushed again, much to his surprise. "Thanks Hotch. Goodnight."

He found himself smiling as he fell asleep, that blush and the scent of her following her into his dreams.

* * *


	5. Charity

**Chapter 5**

_December 5, 2008_

--

Emily sighed. The way they were working, either Hotch had forgotten about their plans to wrap presents or there was simply too much work. The clock was ticking closer and closer to eight, when she had been planning to head over to the shelter, and it didn't seem like the workload was lightening up. Reid was mumbling under his breath, something about Christmas, tree lights and victimology, while Dave, and Derek were out talking to Victim Number Two's husband. Hotch was just outside their little conference room on the phone to JJ. She sighed again. This time, Reid looked up.

"Everything okay, Emily?"

"Fine," she replied, trying, and succeeding, to hide her disappointment.

"You don't seem fine."

"Reid, I'm fine, I promise. Can you hand me Derek's notes from his interview with Jake Howard?"

The younger agent handed over the requested page. "You've been antsy all day."

"Am I not allowed to have a restless day?" she all but snapped. "Sorry."

"See? You're not okay."

"And you're not helping," she answered with a saccharine sweet smile.

"Prentiss." Hotch had poked his head back in the room.

"Yes, sir?" She said it on reflex, she knew she said it on reflex.

"Let's go."

Emily raised an eyebrow, but followed. "Sir?"

"Reid, we'll be back in a few hours. When Dave and Derek get back, head back to the hotel unless they've gotten something from Jake Howard."

Emily felt irrational hope swell in her chest as she followed Hotch out the front door of the precinct, all bundled up. "Hotch?"

"Do you know where we're going?"

"For gift wrapping?" Her heart swelled again.

"Of course." He looked at her. "You thought I'd forgotten."

She shrugged. "I figured it was just that you thought we had too much work," she replied, climbing into the car.

His eyes and face went surprisingly soft as he turned to her. "Christmas tradition is important."

Emily felt herself blushing, even more so when she pulled the flyer out of her purse. She waited until they were stopped at a nearby red light to rest her hand on his arm. "Thanks Hotch."

* * *

"Hello!"

Emily smiled at the cheerful lady who greeted them from behind a table.

"Are you here to help us with our Christmas wrapping?"

"Yes ma'am," Hotch spoke up from behind her.

"You're not from our neighbourhood, are you?"

"No ma'am," Emily answered, "We're on a business trip."

"Well! How incredible of you to take time off to help us! Find a table. I'll have Mason bring over gifts for you to wrap."

"Thanks," Emily said softly, discretely dropping a twenty into the nearby donation box. She knew it was probably for money that would go to next year's drive. She and Hotch made their way over a table where a young couple was already wrapping. Or kind of wrapping anyway. It seemed like they were way too busy with each other instead of the presents.

"Oh! Hi!" The woman giggled. "I'm Lily."

"Emily." She tried for a polite smile, really she did. Peppy people annoyed her when they weren't Penelope Garcia.

"Tim distracts me so easily," she giggled leaning into him.

Emily looked up at her supervisor, trying not to roll her eyes.

"I believe these are for you?"

Emily smiled at the man who had brought over a tub of toys. "Thank you."

"No problem. You're not from Bozeman."

"Washington," Hotch answered.

"Well, we'd really like to thank you for bein' here. Means a lot to us."

Emily smiled widely. "It's our pleasure." She pulled the first toy out of the box.

"You guys look official."

"Came straight from work," Emily replied easily, quickly finding wrapping paper, tape, scissors and other wrapping bits. She saw Hotch follow her lead out of the corner of her eye and smiled. She knew it had been a long time since Hotch had been out of his working environment.

"You guys are here with the FBI?"

Hotch looked up at the man.

"They came to talk to my neighbour today. Lexie was... she was something."

"You knew her?" Hotch asked.

Emily almost rolled her eyes when he ignored the look he shot her. This wasn't supposed to be about work, it was supposed to be about giving back to the community.

"Yeah."

"Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt her?"

"No. Lexie was a great woman. Maybe a little selfish at times, but a good woman."

"Selfish?" Hotch asked, accepting the wrapping paper she handed him.

"Well, who isn't, sir? She got extremely competitive around Christmas. The light competition was important to her."

That caught Emily's attention, though she pretended she was ignoring the conversation. She glanced up every once in a while to take in the man's body language, but tried to focus on the gifts at the same time.

"The decorating competition."

"It's important in our community. It's easy to take it too far. Anyway, I've got other things to do."

"Of course," Hotch agreed.

Emily waited until he'd left before raising an eyebrow to Hotch. "You couldn't take half an hour off, could you?"

"An opportunity presented itself. I need your finger."

She looked down at the present he'd managed to wrap while talking to Alexis Howard's next-door neighbour and bit her lip. There was only one way she'd be able to offer her help and it was going to bring her right up close and personal with her supervisor. She stepped close, snaking her hand beneath his arm to delicately place her pointer finger against the ribbon. She gasped when his arm lowered, forcing hers to bend and her body to lean forward. It took her off guard enough that she had to step toward him or risk tumbling them both to the floor.

--

Hotch heard her gasp, felt her breasts against his arm and couldn't stop the reaction of his body. Years and years of hiding his emotions kept him in check as he made quick work of trapping her finger in the ribbon. "Thank you."

Her body's shiver was the only evidence that she'd been affected by the exchange at all. That and the quick step away, back to her wrapping. He almost thrilled when she wouldn't look at him, when he saw that blush creep up her cheeks. Emily Prentiss was as affected by him as he was by her.

Well that changed a lot of things. It didn't change that they were colleagues, that he was her supervisor, but it did change the game a whole lot more than he'd originally anticipated. He was in uncharted waters now. And he was surprised to find it was a thrill.

* * *

**_Short, I know, but these first couple of chapters can be difficult to write and remind myself that he can't just throw her down on the nearest table. Especially when you've got to keep them in character too. Life's just like that though, so we'll see what I can do. _**

**_As per usual, reviews are gingerbread cookies or peppermint hot chocolate. Two of my favourite things during the holiday season!_**


	6. Sweet Christmas Cheer

**Chapter 6**

_December 6, 2008_

--

They had another body. And it was one Emily recognized. It had only been the previous night that she and Hotch had wrapped presents with the woman dead in front of her. Sometimes she wondered about people, about the type of person it took to kill someone, especially at Christmas time. Sure, Lily Clark had been overly peppy for Emily's tastes the night before, but that didn't give anyone enough reason to kill her.

"Her husband was at home," Hotch said, coming up beside her. "Got a nasty bump on the head to prove it."

"Then who killed her? How did he find her?"

"She didn't work," Derek said, coming up from talking to Tim Clark. "Husband said she was a stay-at-home mom for their three kids."

"Where are the kids?" Hotch asked.

"Skiing with school. Week long trip," came the reply. "Husband said he was going to call the lodge, tell the kids."

"Hotch, we were with these people last night," Emily said quietly, urgently, as Derek walked away. "Less than twelve hours ago."

"Do you think that could be it?" he asked, ignoring the way her mittened hand had fisted in the arm of his coat. She'd done it subconsciously, the same way she did to the rest of the team when she thought something was urgent enough. She'd seen her do the same to Dave only a few days before.

"I don't know," she admitted honestly. "Who attacks someone who gives back?"

"Maybe its part of the MO," he offered. "Maybe there's something about the way the victim goes about giving back that bothers him."

"Definitely Christmas lights," Dave said, coming up on Emily's other side. Lily Clark was splayed out in front of them as the coroner moved around them. "CSU has footprints, thank goodness for snow."

"They probably won't give us much," Emily said with a sigh. "The last scene had footprints. The neighbours, when they asked. Seems he was over helping our victim put up her lights because her husband was away."

"To say he's devolving in redundant," Hotch murmured to his colleagues. The local PD wasn't that far away and he didn't want them to overhear a conversation about the profile without their confidence. "There was something about Lily Clark that he didn't like, so much so that he had to deviate from his pattern."

Emily was already on the phone, dialing their tech support.

"Santa's Favourite Elf, how may I help you?"

It made Emily smile at the least, but Garcia had a way of doing that. "Check for the name Lily Clark," she said. "The-"

"She's not here, peaches," Garcia interrupted. "The family just moved to Bozeman from another, smaller town just outside. They've only been in Bozeman a year."

"When did they move?"

"November of last year," Garcia replied, her fingers obviously moving quickly over the keys. "My guess, they were unpacking this time last year."

"So there's no way they'd have even been prepared for the light competition," Emily said, stepping away from Hotch and Dave who were still conversing over her head.

"Lily Clark, mother of three, married to Tim Clark. Squeaky clean woman and not even a parking ticket between them."

"What on earth is setting this guy off?" Emily asked, blowing out a breath in exasperation.

"I just look up the information, sweetness, I can't help you with motive."

Emily smiled. "Thanks Garcia."

"Always," the tech genius sing-songed back. "I'm out!"

Emily was shaking her head affectionately as she made her way back to Hotch and Dave.

"So?"

"Nothing. Lily Clark was clean. The family moved here just last year, November. I don't think they would have been able to find their Christmas decorations in time to do anything for the holiday season."

"This case is getting more and more confusing," Dave said.

"Thank you, Sir Pessimism," Emily teased. "We're going to have to retrace Lily Clark's steps from yesterday."

Hotch nodded. "And get-"

"Garcia's already looking," Emily finished, looking down at her phone. "JJ's going to look into how much of this we can suppress. The last thing we want is a panic because he killed twice this year when we have no answers to give."

Dave raised an eyebrow. He'd always known Emily was thorough, but he'd noticed this case that she and his long-time friend were spending a lot of time together. He'd seen Hotch return two nights ago with a smile on his face. And if he was honest, Dave had been only a little bit surprised to find that Emily and Hotch were missing from the precinct the previous night. He'd seen the way Hotch had reacted to Emily and Jack in the conference room. Heck, even he'd admit, if it wasn't so obvious to the elder profiler that he would be stomping on Hotch's toes, he'd probably be looking at Emily Prentiss a lot differently.

But Dave had known almost from the minute he'd started in the BAU that Emily was off limits. The fact that his eye had been drawn to a completely different woman aside – and the fact that she was, unfortunately, now taken – Emily was a dynamic individual. They were friends and Dave knew Emily stayed late in the office some nights because he did. They'd bonded over many-a-meal together.

Emily Prentiss took care of everyone. He'd seen it with Reid a number of times since he'd started. He saw it with the teasing banter she often exchanged with Derek, in the way she accepted his flirty remarks because she knew it was one of his coping mechanisms. JJ was obvious. The pregnant blond always needed something and Emily seemed to be able to have it ready for her before she even asked for it. The only person she ever shied away from was Hotch and Dave had a feeling it was because she had no idea how to deal with the man. Nevertheless, she'd been the one to pick up the slack when, after New York, Hotch's hearing had suffered. She'd been the one to watch him, make sure he was taking care of his ear, ensuring that he was okay. And Dave knew that she'd wanted to tell him to drive back to Quantico after the Angel Maker case, but wasn't sure how. Still, she'd questioned him making the trip on his own and backed down immediately when he made it clear he was doing it for the good of his ear.

Nevertheless, he'd never been so aware of the two of them until this case. Until she'd kept Jack's attention in the conference room five days before and he'd literally seen the unit chief pause on the walkway to the conference room to watch the dark-haired woman show his son how best to make a snowflake with only paper and scissors. He'd started to notice how she was all but prepared for everything before Hotch asked for it. Like now, how she'd managed to finish his sentence by answering his question before it was out of his mouth.

"Then let's get back to the precinct and bring Tim Clark with us," Hotch said. "He'll be able to give us a better idea of what his wife's been up to in the last week."

* * *

Unfortunately, Tim Clark had very little idea of what his wife had been up to. He'd been able to give them a brief sketch of her day, but the details were unfortunately out of his league. They had been able to find her agenda, which included her husband's plans during the day. Lily Clark was the quintessential soccer mom scheduling everything from her husband's work hours to when to pick up her children.

Emily sighed. It hadn't given them much more to go on and it was bothering her. They knew he was devolving, that he had stepped up his time table exponentially. Other than that, they now had nothing. And that was even assuming it had been the Tree Light Killer and not a copycat that had killed Lily Clark for another reason. She _hated_ this part of cases as they sat around the conference room table, throwing ideas and theories around over the requisite Chinese food Derek and Reid had run out to get.

"Lily Clark doesn't fit," Emily repeated for the hundredth time. "Her husband was in Bozeman. She hasn't been in the city long enough to get herself involved in the light competition. She doesn't make sense."

"Then something else set him off," Derek argued. "She was strangled with tree lights."

"It's not like that detail hasn't been publicized," Emily replied. "Even if Jayje could keep it quiet this time around there were three murders before this, all with coroner's reports that say the most likely weapon of choice by the UNSUB was a string of the mini tree lights. It was bound to come out somehow."

"Or he's getting more confident while he's devolving," Dave interjected. "He doesn't care that the husband's in town, he just cares about why he needs to kill."

"He had to have watched the Clarks for a while then," Reid murmured in the tone of voice that told his teammates his brain was all but whirling. "Whatever set him off about the other women, he'd have to have found it in Lily Clark."

"Excellent, now what is it?" Emily grumbled, leaning back in her chair. The room was silent for a few moments as each agent lost themselves in thought. Emily shook her head violently when she started to hear Christmas music in her head. She slowly began to realize that the music wasn't only in her head. Her eyes lit up, seeking out Hotch's without realizing it, a smile creeping across her face. She stood quickly, pulling open the door and searching out the source of the music.

A group of children stood just inside the precinct, voices ringing throughout the building. She leaned against the doorway, a soft smile on her face. The room was quiet around them, not an officer moving. The attention was all focused on the children as they sang the traditional carols.

_They look-ed up and saw a star  
Shining in the east beyond them far  
And to the earth it gave great light  
And so it continued both day and night._

She felt someone walk up behind her, felt a shoulder press against the back of hers and glanced up quickly at her supervisor, noticing the same sparkle in his eyes as she knew was in her own. She stepped aside as the team gathered around the door, listening to the impromptu concert. Hotch stepped with her, his hand moving to rest on the shelf she ended up leaning against. Emily held in her shiver.

It was a liberty that Emily wasn't exactly used to. Either that, or she simply hadn't noticed it before. Because regardless of how sweet the choir sounded, her attention was mostly focused on how close he was standing, how, with a small, simple movement, she could be all but leaning against his strong frame. She held herself surprisingly rigid, repeating over and over that he was her boss and regardless of how close he was standing, he was very much off limits.

--

Hotch was entranced. Not only was the music completely calming his mind, but he was probably standing closer to Emily while on the job than he'd ever been. And she hadn't pulled away. It was the latter point that had his heart beating a little bit faster, that has his brain fogging as well as relaxing. She looked so feminine standing there, still dressed in her business suit, though her jacket discarded. She'd pulled her hair in a ponytail to keep it out of her face but shorter wisps fell about her neck, stubbornly refusing to stay in the elastic band.

His head was swimming as the choir finished their last song and took a bow. His hand grazed the back of her shoulder, his mind cataloguing the way her clapping paused and her body tensed for a split second. He caught the gaze she darted at him out of his peripheral vision. What the heck was he doing?

He didn't know either.

He caught Dave's eye as the team moved back into the conference room, more serene than they'd been half an hour prior. There was curiosity there, a spark of knowledge and Hotch had to do his best not to react. He had to control himself. He was treading on thin ice, not being fully sure of what was going on himself. So what if he and Emily shared a love for the holiday season? They'd spent an evening working side by side on paperwork, both losing track of the time, but that was what friends did, didn't they? And friends made other friends CDs of music they didn't have.

So then why did he feel like he had to be around her? Why did he want to be as close as possible, stroking skin, running a hand over her shoulders? Why hadn't he left her alone while talking about her nieces? Why had he opened up about his own poor Christmases as a child? Yes, he and Emily had become friends since New York, and he actually hadn't been blind to the changes she'd effortlessly made to accommodate his hearing problems. But it didn't mean anything. They were friends.

But he'd proven to himself that she was as hyper-aware of him as he was of her. Which made him question everything she'd done. Had the gift wrapping been an invitation as a friend or to test the waters of something more? The more he thought about it, the more she seemed to permeate his life. Especially in the last six days. He'd seen a different side of Emily, the side that was as childish as a six-year-old. He'd seen her effortlessly and patiently explain to Jack how to make a snowflake, instructions the little boy had quite seriously explained to his father over pizza that same night. He'd seen her telling a story to two little girls whom she considered close enough to be nieces. And it had done absolutely nothing to quell his attraction to her.

At this rate, he wasn't sure anything could.

* * *

**_So I think the next chapter is from Hotch's point of view. I've done a few chapters that have really focused on Emily (though Dave made a nice little four-ish paragraph appearance here), but I make no guarantees. The way it's written out in my head at the moment (the moment being now, December 4 (yeah I'm ahead!) at 8 pm EST) the chapter is from his POV. But, as per usual with my stories, it could go a completely different way by the time I wake up tomorrow morning._**

**_I hope you enjoyed this chapter anyway!_**


	7. Little Things

**Chapter 7**

_December 7, 2008_

--

With no new leads from Lily Clark's husband, Dave and Hotch went out the next day to re-visit the other families with the hope that they could find a link between the previous victims and Lily Clark. If not, it was more likely that a copycat had held a grudge against the woman for whatever reason. The backtracked completely, going back to the first victim of the Tree Light Killer. Much to Hotch's surprise, he recognized the man that opened the door to Victoria Sadler. Unlike the few days before, in the basement of a church covered in bits of wrapping paper and gifts, Hotch's stomach jolted.

"Mr Sadler, we're Agents Rossi and Hotchner of the FBI."

Mason Sadler met Hotch's eyes as he shook his hand. "We've met."

"You have?" Dave asked arching an eyebrow.

"Emily and I wrapped gifts at the church a few days ago," Hotch answered. "Mr Sadler was there helping out. Unfortunately, we're not here about charity work."

"Oh?"

"May we come in?" Dave asked, making a big show of putting his hands in his pockets to keep his hands out of the bitter Montana cold. His cabin got cold in the winters so he was more than used to the weather, but he couldn't think of a small town neighbour that wouldn't let someone in to keep them out of the cold.

"Of course," Mason stepped aside, allowing the agents in. "Can I get you anything? Coffee?"

"Please," Dave accepted, while Hotch shook his head.

"What is this about?"

"Three years ago, your wife was killed," Dave said, keeping his voice soft. He watched the man's eyes dilate at the same time his nostrils flared. That hadn't been the reaction he'd been expecting.

"I try not to think about it," Mason answered. "It was... it was sudden."

"We're sorry for your loss, Mr Sadler, but we need to ask about the circumstances surrounding her death," Hotch said strongly.

"She was strangled, sir. I'm not sure what other information I can give you."

"Your wife worked, Mr Sadler?" Dave inquired, watching the man's head swing towards him.

"No sir, she didn't. She stayed home with Holly, my daughter."

"Where is she?"

"She's not due to be home from college until next week," Mason answered. "UC Berkley."

"Freshman?" Hotch inquired.

"Sophomore," Mason replied.

"We're going to need to talk to her," Hotch requested quietly. "As about her whereabouts when your wife died."

"Check the date, Agent Hotchner. My wife died during the week. Holly always stayed late at school. She didn't get into Berkley because she's a pretty face."

Dave raised an eyebrow. "What was your wife doing at the time she was killed?"

"Hanging Christmas decorations," Manson answered, something odd colouring his voice. "Lights, wreaths, the whole thing."

"Who found her?" Dave asked, taking over the interview.

"Holly. What is this about?"

"Did your wife know Lily Clark?"

"The Clark's moved here a year ago. My wife was killed three years ago." He took a deep breath. "Vicky lived here her whole life. She was a small town girl, proud of her small town roots. She didn't want anything more to stay at home, raise Holly... She loved Christmas."

Still, Hotch's gut churned. Something was off about this man, something that made Hotch uncomfortable. Very, very uncomfortable. The way Mason spoke about Victoria was affectionate, until he started talking about Christmas. He wished he had Emily there, simply for her linguistic ability. If his gut was uncomfortable, something was off and wished he could put his finger on it. Or get Emily to decipher the tone he could hear underneath Mason Sadler's words.

"I couldn't help but notice you haven't put up decorations of your own, Mr Sadler," Dave said. "Is it too difficult?"

"Holly and I are getting on a plane the day after she gets home. We celebrate with my parents in Boston. We celebrate New Years with Vicky's family, for Holly."

Dave nodded. "We're still going to need to talk to your daughter," he said quietly.

"This is harassment."

"Sir, we're just trying to figure out what happened to your wife," Dave tried to reassure the man.

"Holly gave a statement to the police when she found Vicky. What else do you need?"

"We're talking to all of the families of the victims," Hotch said calmly.

"Then talk to them, because I have no idea how I can help you."

Both men understood the dismissal.

"Thank you, Mr Sadler," Dave said, handing his mug back. Both men walked side-by-side down the pathway to their Bureau-issue SUV. He climbed into the passenger seat as Hotch took the driver's side. "That was helpful."

Hotch sighed. "I don't like him."

"Oh?"

"The way he talked about his wife's love of Christmas... We need to talk to the daughter."

"Why?"

"Because Mr Sadler had the same tone of voice when he talked about Alexis Howard."

"When?"

Hotch sighed. "He was volunteering at the gift wrap. I asked him a few questions about Alexis Howard while we were there. When he talked about Alexis Howard and her love of Christmas..."

Dave nodded. "Did you ask Emily?"

It was ironic that Dave's first thought was Emily's linguistic ability when it was all he'd been able to think about while his brain struggled to understand the subtle and underlying tones in Mason Sadler's voice. "No."

Dave's cell phone stopped them from continuing their conversation, putting the phone on speaker when he registered the caller ID. "Yeah Morgan."

"So we got nothing out of the family of victim two. They had no idea who Lily Clark was, though their daughter, Anne, was on the ski trip with the Clark boys."

Dave arched his eyebrow as he heard a commotion in the background. "Everything okay?"

"Fine. Emily ran out of M&M's and she's in the process of trying to convince one of us to go pick some up."

Dave rolled his eyes. Emily's chocoholic tendencies weren't new to any of the members of the BAU. In fact, Reid had been on the unfortunate end of Emily's overprotective tendencies and had learned quickly that touching Emily's chocolate threatened his life. The team knew how dangerous it was to come between Emily and her chocolate. "Brave of you to say no."

"It's all she's been doing. She's going to make herself... Woman cool it!"

"Morgan, did it ever occur to you that saying 'yes' might be more productive?" Dave asked, amusement in his voice. Emily's habits were of constant amusement to him. She was quirky to say the least. "Morgan, what _did_ you get from Heather Dunham's family?"

"She was a whirlwind for the first week of December, didn't do much but decorate and sleep. Daughter, Anne, said she stayed away from her mother between the first and about the tenth by the time all of the decorations went up. Then everything was normal again."

Hotch altered their course slightly, turning onto the main road of Bozeman. "Go see about Alexis Howard."

"Take Reid?"

Dave smirked. "Unless you're willing to take Emily."

"I'll take Reid."

"Keep us posted," Hotch said, turning into the parking lot of a nearby convenience store.

Dave hung up the phone with a raised eyebrow. "Why are we stopping?"

"Pick something up," Hotch said vaguely. He strolled into the convenience store, mind keen on one thing and one thing only.

Dave's eyebrows raised again when Hotch climbed back into the SUV with chocolate in his hands. "Chocolate?"

"The alternative is more terrifying than just bringing it back," Hotch replied, starting up the car.

"Hotch, you realize you just picked up chocolate for none other than Emily Prentiss without thinking twice?"

Hotch glanced over at his mentor. "What's your point?"

"Something's up with you two. You're on the same wave length more often than not. You went gift wrapping together..."

"For charity," Hotch argued. He should have known Dave would pick up on the undertones between him and the agent on the team both men were probably the closest to. "We're friends, Dave."

"Sure you are," Dave agreed. "I'm not questioning that you're not."

"Then what is this about?"

"Nothing in particular," Dave shrugged. "I've just seem some interesting things passing between you two."

"I beg your pardon?" Hotch said, his heart rate speeding up.

"Looks, gestures... you stay close, she stays close... more so recently."

"We're friends, Dave," Hotch repeated.

"And that's why you're bringing Emily her favourite chocolate while sending Morgan and Reid out to interview the Howards."

Hotch shot his friend a glance. "Emily and I are friends."

"You and _Emily_?"

Hotch rolled his eyes as he pulled into the precinct and picked up the chocolate. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Dave followed him out of the car, but stopped when he'd closed the door. "Emily's a special woman, Aaron. You have to be sure you want her because she's better than one night, and she's better than a fling."

Hotch hid the distinct surprise at how overprotective Dave was acting. "There's nothing going on between Emily and I."

"Yet."

Hotch chose to ignore him as he pulled open the precinct door. He caught Emily's eye as they made their way into the conference room.

"Anything?" she asked.

"Mason Sadler is the same man who was volunteering at the gift wrap a few days ago," Hotch replied, tossing the M&M's at her. He tried to hide his reaction to the way her eyes lit up.

"Oh?" Emily asked, immediately ripping into the candy as if Hotch bringing her chocolate was a regular occurrence.

Hotch took a seat beside her. "Do you remember him? From the gift wrap?"

"The man you interviewed? I remember him," she nodded, popping a piece of candy in her mouth.

"Do you remember anything odd about him?"

Emily cocked her head to the side. "I feel a little bit like a suspect in interrogation," she admitted. "He a suspect?"

"Something is off about him," Hotch replied, daringly sneaking an M&M from the small pile she'd made beside her.

Emily hummed slightly. "He called Alexis Howard selfish," she said. "Which I found odd. Especially for a man that was volunteering at a gift wrap for charity."

"Do you remember hearing anything in his voice? Anything odd?"

She chuckled. "Now I really feel like a suspect. And if you take one more M&M I take no responsibility for what I may do to you."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I remember wondering why he would choose 'selfish'. Call it an odd intuition-"

"Or linguistic knowledge," Dave spoke up, slipping into one of the other chairs.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Selfish is an odd word to use at this time of year," she said, ignoring Dave. "Of all of the words in the English language to use during the holidays, selfish is one that... it's the ultimate insult."

"Mason Sadler didn't put up any decorations," Dave said. "Said he and his daughter didn't spend Christmas at home so there was really no point in putting them up."

"But...?"

"It was the same tone of voice he used when he was talking about Alexis Howard being selfish," Hotch picked up.

"Bitter? Angry?" Emily asked.

Hotch watched Emily suck thoughtfully on an M&M and started reciting the case file. Then discovered that thinking about the case file brought him back to Emily. It felt like everything these days brought him back to the dark-haired agent beside him. "Yes."

"You think he's our guy?" she inquired.

Dave cocked his head to the side. "His wife was the first victim."

"We still have no idea what set him off. Age fits, so does potential race, but this is a small town," Emily said.

"All the more reason," Dave replied. "He attacks when the husband's away."

"All of the families had kids."

Dave nodded. "And he attacked when the kids weren't home. Holly Sadler was at school. The Clark boys were on a ski trip."

"Both husbands were in Bozeman at the time of the deaths of their wives," Emily said. "The only husbands that were. Does that narrow our suspect pool?" She slapped at Hotch's hand as it reached for another candy.

Dave raised an amused eyebrow. _Just friends,_ he thought wryly. He was starting to seriously doubt it.

* * *

**_This... got out of hand, to put it lightly. Trying to juggle the case with Christmas seems to be giving me some intense difficulties. And writing Hotch's POV is frustrated as heck. I hope you liked it?_**


	8. Cold, Dark Night

**Chapter 8**

_December 8, 2008_

--

They'd thought they had a lead and so had worked long into the night, each of them swapping off an hour of sleep when ordered. They'd been up for almost 48 hours and still they couldn't connect anyone to any of the 5 deaths. Emily sighed, running a hand through her hair, forgetting she'd pulled it into a ponytail hours before. She growled to herself, pulling the elastic out to put it back in again. The lights flickered, distracting the whole team. An officer poked his head in.

"Sorry. Bad snowstorm. We've got back up generators that should kick in should the power go out. This wouldn't be the first time the power's gone out because of a bad storm."

Hotch nodded. "How bad's the storm?"

The officer smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid no one will be coming in or going out tonight, sir."

Emily sighed as the lights flickered again. Another night without a bed to sleep in. Then the lights went out. She leaned back in her chair, waiting for the generators to start up. Minutes passed and nothing happened. Then flashlights flickered on in the bullpen. The same officer poked his head in again, bearing a flashlight.

"I'm so sorry-"

"The generator failed," Derek finished. "Excellent. Just what we needed."

The officer looked extremely apologietic. "We have no idea why the generators failed."

"There's nothing you could have done," Emily told him with a smile. She sighed as he turned to leave, flipping her file closed. With no light, there was no reason for the files, no reason to work. She heard other files flip closed around her as the officer went back to the bullpen. She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable in the dark, as she always had been. She knew Reid was too and mentally counted down to Reid's inevitable spewing of facts.

"Maybe we should think of a flashlight for ourselves," the good doctor said, voice coming from her left.

"Why? Afraid of the dark?" Derek teased.

"Nyctophobia is more commonly found in children," Reid replied, almost indignantly, though his voice shook.

"It happens in adults too," Dave pointed out.

"Well, yes, but-"

"Let's try and get some sleep," Hotch suggested, interrupting the oncoming argument. "There's no work we can do tonight."

Emily sighed for the millionth time that night, resigning herself to sleeping on the floor. And probably wrapped in less blankets than she'd like considering the power was out. She was suddenly thankful she'd made Derek bring her ready bag back from the hotel instead of going there herself. She'd wanted to freshen up without the added time of going back to the hotel. Now, she was extremely thankful for it, if she could find the bloody thing. Her eyes were adjusting slowly to the dark, though, and she could just make out the shapes of her colleagues all still sitting around the table.

"Em, you take the couch," Derek said, standing up.

"Nuh uh," Emily replied. "Reid can have it."

"You're the only woman here," Reid contradicted.

"Uh huh, but trust me, I'm fine on the floor," Emily replied. "And if someone could find my bag, it would be even better."

"Over here, Emily," Hotch's voice sounded, lifting the offending object.

Emily put her hand on the wall to guide herself around the room. She smiled as she took the bag from his hand. "Thanks."

"Sleep," he said, eyes still fixed on hers.

She was the one to look away first, preparing for bed.

* * *

Hours later, Emily was still awake and definitely shivering. Along with no lights came no heat and even under her winter coat and the spare blanket she kept in her ready bag for the plane, she was freezing. She could feel her entire body shaking and sighed as she rolled over on the floor again. She'd been tossing and turning for hours because she couldn't find a position that kept her warm.

"Emily."

If she could have jumped, she would have. She jerked instead. "Sorry. I didn't know anyone else was awake."

"I am."

_Thank you, Captain Obvious_. She was always cranky when cold. She'd ended up settling down not far from her supervisor. His voice was quiet, loud enough for her to hear but not the others.

"And freezing."

"Unfortunate side effect of having no heat," she said wryly.

--

Hotch knew what he wanted to do. Logically, it was an excellent idea. After all, there was nothing better than sharing body heat. He took a deep breath, preparing for her resistance. "Come here."

He saw the surprise in the way her body stiffened. "I beg your pardon?"

"Body heat, Emily. You need to sleep and you can't if you're freezing," he argued, appealing to her better logic. His hand raised the edge of his long winter coat.

"Hotch, I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Sharing body heat is a logical way to keep warm," he told her. His voice was extremely calm. "There is nothing inappropriate about that."

The ensuing silence told him he'd been smart to appeal to her better logic.

"My coat, your coat, your blanket and body heat has to sound better than freezing over there."

She sighed and sat up, scooting over until she was beside him.

"I forgot about your travel pillow," he admitted quietly as she arranged herself against him. He wrapped her coat closer to her, tucking the blanket in between them before tugging her right against him. He could feel her shaking slowly subsiding.

Emily, for her part, had tucked her hands between their bodies, right against his chest. He could feel them, like ice, against through his Oxford shirt, clenched in fists. Her hips were pressed into his, her legs tangling easily with his. She smelled like berries and mint and he knew it was a mix of her shampoo and the toothpaste she'd used – and let them all use – from her ready-bag. She felt fantastic pressed against him like she was, like he'd always known she would be. It would haunt his dreams, that much he knew.

"Hotch?"

His arms went about her, pulling her, if possible, even closer. "Emily." He tried to ignore the way her fingers had started stroking the buttons of his shirt. Her body wasn't shaking as badly anymore and he could feel her fingers warming between them.

There was silence for a moment. "Thank you."

"For what?"

She smiled. "Chocolate."

He chuckled, shifting and moving until he was on his back, his head on her pillow and hers on his chest over his heart. It took some doing, but eventually she was pressed against his side, one of his hands behind her shoulders, playing with the ends of her hair, the other wrapped around her hip. Emily didn't seem to mind. If anything, she relaxed even more. "Why do you like them?"

"Because they're so much better than Smarties."

He had to focus, had to find some way to get his mind off of the way she'd snuck a hand under his winter coat and suit jacket when they'd shifted, obviously to keep herself warm. "That's not an answer."

She laughed softly. "That's the best I can give you."

"You have no idea why you like M&Ms?"

"I thought we were going to try to sleep," she replied.

"We were, but now I'm curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"But satisfaction brought him back. I don't see how M&Ms are superior to Smarties." He raised his head when she gasped, swallowing thickly when he realized her head had shifted so she was looking up at him from where her head rested over his heart. It would be too easy to lift himself up and press his lips to hers.

"I can't believe you said that."

Her voice brought him out of the fog as he let his head drop back again. "You still haven't given me a good reason why M&Ms are better."

"There's more chocolate," she exclaimed quietly. "Smarties are all candy, no chocolate. M&Ms are candy covered chocolate."

"And that makes them better?"

"Hotch?"

His eyes opened, staring at the ceiling. "Mmhmm?"

"Go to sleep."

"Yes ma'am."

* * *

**_This is shorter than usual and, now that I read it back, maybe a little OOC, but it needs to happen. And for those of you who are nice and annoyed with how often I may say the characters are acting a little crazy, I promise I'm trying to remember that any softer side of Hotch is one we don't see so it's going to be OOC no matter which way you look at it because we don't know much about that side of him. _**

**_Loves!_**


	9. Catch a Break

**Chapter 9**

_December 9, 2008_

--

Emily woke slowly the next morning, warm and only slightly sore. What actually surprised her was what she could feel that _wasn't_ normal. She knew the smell of her travel pillow. More often than not it smelled like her hair and her laundry detergent from sleeping on it and keeping it in her bag. This pillow, the one she was currently and comfortably laying on, definitely didn't smell like her pillow. What was even more disconcerting was that it didn't feel like her pillow either. The last time she checked, her pillow didn't breathe, either.

She had to admit, however, she was extremely comfortable, and that was saying something, considering she'd spent her night sleeping on the floor. She remembered how she'd ended up where she was, surprisingly curled up against Hotch as if he was the greatest teddy bear. Well, she now knew he made a good pillow, so the teddy bear couldn't be that far off. That wasn't the only thing she could feel, however. Somehow Hotch had managed to creep a hand under her coat and under her blouse so it rested warmly on the bottom of her spine. The wicked part of her wondered if she could come up with a way to ask him how he'd managed to do that, simply to see the reaction.

She took stock of the rest of her body, of the way her legs were inexplicably wrapped and tangled with his and the way her hand was curled into a fist in the lapel of his jacket. She blinked her eyes open, unsurprised to find the lights on and the heater working. In fact, she was feeling a little warm cuddled like she was and there was no way she was going to allow her mind to chalk it up to the man she was sleeping against.

She managed to extract herself from his arms carefully without waking him up, Emily gathered her things and heading to the bathroom. It wasn't the first time she'd had to go about her morning routine in a public bathroom, but she never did enjoy it. So she made quick work of washing her face and fixing her ponytail, swapping her winkled and slept in blouse for a fresh one.

She wasn't surprised to find Hotch was gone when she returned to the conference room. Coffee was the next thing on her mind as she made her way to the break room where she found a sight to behold. Hotch had returned to the hotel to freshen up with Dave the previous day and thus, only had the shirt he'd slept in. But Emily felt her stomach tighten and her mouth dry up at the picture a rumpled Aaron Hotchner made. His hair wasn't as perfectly combed as it usually was. His shirt was wrinkled from sleeping in it and his pants weren't neatly pressed. Emily really liked this Hotch.

"Good morning," she greeted softly.

"Good morning," he replied. "Coffee?"

She took the proffered mug. "Thank you." She took a sip, her eyes falling closed. Profilers. It was just the way she liked it.

"How did you sleep?"

"Really well," she replied without thinking, hiding her blush and smile behind another sip of coffee.

"I'm glad," he answered. "Sheriff Tyde said the power came back on early this morning."

"And the heat with it," Emily agreed. She blushed as her stomach growled loudly.

"These are for us," he said, the corner of her mouth tilting up slightly. Beside him was a box of baked goods.

"Are they?" she inquired, her eyes lighting up. She stepped towards him and pulled a blueberry scone from the box. "Breakfast is my favourite meal of the day."

--

Hotch's eyes followed her as she leaned herself against the counter next to him. He'd gone to sleep with her cuddled against him, her smell in his nose and her trim figure tight to his. When he woke, she was over at her bag. Actually, her shifting and stretching had woken him. He was simply happy she hadn't noticed the state his body had woken in. So, he'd pretended to be asleep when the cold that followed the absence of her body heat woke him. Then, when he was sure she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her quietly he'd risen and run into the sheriff. After being informed that it would probably be his way to the coffee maker. He'd just finished adding the cream to hers when she'd stepped in.

"Why breakfast?" he asked, more than willing to take the time to learn another little detail about the fascinating brunette. He'd started lapping up every moment with her since learning about her talent for arts and crafts. He'd started a little mental file on her the night they'd spend hours upon hours pouring over consults.

Since then, he'd learned a few things about her, and a few other things he'd simply cemented away. He'd learned she was a largely sarcastic woman. Sure, she'd always taken a large amount of pleasure in teasing her colleagues and always known she was a quick thinker, but he'd never realized how far that actually went. Then he'd learned about her 'nieces'. He'd known Emily Prentiss was a mother. She did it with the team, it had come out with some of the victims they'd encountered, and then there was the easy interaction between Emily and his son. He should have known she was a natural with children.

The ease with which she'd turned back into Agent Prentiss in the hotel lobby only a few days ago while still looking adorably feminine without shoes and curled into the couch startled him. And turned him on. And he knew chocolate had always been a weakness. The way her eyes had sparkled when the children had come carolling had only drawn him to her more.

"The food," she replied, snapping him from his reflections. "Pancakes, bacon, eggs, French toast..."

"Scones." He waved to the pastry in her hand.

Emily grinned. "Scones, croissants... oh! Chocolate croissants!"

Hotch laughed at her exuberance. This childish side of the usually reserved woman was a sight to behold. The light in her eyes, the relaxed posture, the ease with which she leaned against the counter all served to only enhance her beauty.

"Come on! It's chocolate and flakey pastry in the same food! And Belgian waffles with strawberries and ice cream."

He felt his gut clench at the groan she let loose. He had to clear his throat before speaking. "That good, huh?"

--

Emily felt heat rise in her cheeks as she glanced up at her unit chief briefly. There was something in his eyes that she would have never expected to see. Was she really seeing the heat of attraction in his eyes? She couldn't be. It just wasn't possible. He was her boss. She closed her eyes, mentally berated herself for seeing what she wanted to. It just wasn't a possibility and getting her hopes up would just be stupid.

* * *

"So Tim Clark's alibi checks out for his wife's death," Derek said hours later, taking a seat at the conference table after just getting off the phone. "Where'd Em go?"

"Holly Sadler called back," Hotch answered. "She took the call."

"First victim's daughter, right?" Derek asked, flipping through the files that were spread haphazardly about the table. It was inevitable when they worked over thirty-six hours straight. "Berkley."

"What do we know about Mason Sadler?" Hotch asked.

"I can answer that question," came the cheery voice of their best secret weapon. Her face popped up on the laptop in front of Reid, making the genius jump. "Honey, you are too tense if you're jumping at my pretty face."

"Sorry, Garcia," he apologized. "What did you find?"

"His mother."

"I'm sorry?"

"Mason's mother was Natty Sadler, a famed interior decorator originally from New York City."

"Okay..." Reid said, his forehead wrinkling.

"Here's where it starts to come together. The woman catered to the elite, not surprising since she was from New York. She met Harry Sadler before becoming famous and moved back to Bozeman Montana with him when his father passed away. Mason was four at the time."

"Get to the point, Garcia," Hotch ordered, standing with his arms folded at the other end of the room.

"Well, she started with flying back and forth but eventually, her style couldn't keep up with the tastes of Hollywood. She fell into a depression, looks like both of her boys went to the hospital a few times. Except that first week of December. She took to the light competition like her last lifeline, won it a few years too, but eventually started falling down the ranks until she took her own life."

Reid wrinkled his nose. "What does that mean?"

"Depends on how much Natty Sadler was like her daughter-in-law," Emily answered, stepping back into the room. "I just finished on the phone with Holly. Victoria Sadler was a force to be reckoned with when it came to Christmas decorations and she took losing the light competition hard."

"Hard?" Hotch asked raising an eyebrow as he made his way to her side. It was subconscious on his part, but didn't go unnoticed by Dave or Derek.

"Sounds like if Victoria didn't win the competition, she'd sulk for weeks. Holly credits all of her happy Christmases to her father."

"Running Victoria Sadler...." Garcia said, her fingers all but racing over the keys. "Depression. Prescription for Lithium."

Sheriff Tyde chose that moment to step in. "We've got lab results."

"Results?"

"DNA," the sheriff responded with a smile."Off of the lights."

"Someone made a boo-boo," Emily murmured, a triumphant smile tilting the corners of her mouth. "Our favourite kind too."

"PD collected all of the lights at the scene. We found the string that most likely killed Lily Clark. There was a second DNA doner just above where Lily Clark's DNA was found," the sheriff said.

Hotch felt his heart speed up, as it always did when they were close on their UNSUB's heels. "Who?"

Sheriff Tyde smiled. "Mason Sadler."

* * *

**_Have I mentioned how much I love the overwhelming response I've gotten for this? I wrote one last year, same fandom, and didn't get half as much response. Honestly, I think that was the first Hotch/Prentiss on this particular site, but I'm almost positive there was more of a focus on Reid/JJ and Garcia/Morgan. At least until the end. Who knows, more often than not my stories end up being completely different than when I started. _**

**_Anyway! Now that I've ranted for who knows how many words, the point was to say thank you. It's always fantastic to get upwards of 15 reviews a chapter, a response I never expect when I write. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it. I'm having fun writing it. _**

**_I think._**

**_Oh, and they're heading back to Quantico soon! And oh my gosh do I have plans for Emily and Hotch and Jack and Emily's 'nieces'...  
_**


	10. Home for the Holidays

**Chapter 10**

_December 10, 2008_

--

"My wife was... competitive."

Emily watched Dave and Derek through the one way mirror, arms folded across her chest. After her phone call with Holly Sadler the day before, the teenager, she knew, had filed for a deferral for all of her exams to come back to Bozeman. The young woman had seemed so confused on the phone that Emily had almost promised to call the school to explain what was going on. But they needed her help, they needed her testimony. And Emily needed to stay objective. Just for a few more hours, if this interrogation went as it was supposed to.

"We're not here to talk about your wife, Mr Sadler," Derek replied, twisting the only empty chair around to take a seat. He tossed a picture on the table. "Lily Clark."

Mason Sadler looked down at the photo. "Gift wrap. Same table as your agents."

"You remember her?"

"Well, yeah. Your agents wrapped three times as many presents as they did. Actually finished off both of their bins and the Clark's."

Emily shook her head with a small smile, fondly remembering that night. Hotch had even removed his jacket and tie. It was the first time Emily could remember seeing the man roll up the sleeves of an Oxford shirt and she had to admit it was only years of having the perfect composure that kept her from drooling. Forearms were a weakness of hers.

"I don't understand what that has to do with me," Mason said.

Dave moved papers around on the steel table. "We checked on your alibi for Lily Clark's death," he said. "Turns out, it doesn't check out."

"What?"

"It was between you and her husband, actually, the only two husbands at home for the deaths of their wives. But, it turns out Tim Clark has a solid alibi. You don't."

"We're executing a search warrant on your home, specifically for your boots."

"My boots? Why?"

"Footprints at the scene of Lily Clark's murder. What happened Mason? Were you interrupted? Something spook you? It's the only reason we can figure out for why you were so careful at every other scene except Lily Clark's," Dave said calmly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Mason replied.

His body language told otherwise. His arms had folded across his chest and Emily could hear the discomfort in his voice. She glanced over her shoulder as the door opened, but turned back when the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. More often than not, her ability to know it was Hotch walking into the room spooked her. For once, she was thankful for it. "He's lying through his teeth."

"What did you get out of his daughter?"

"She was hopping on a plane today to come back," Emily replied. "She wants to be here for her father."

"For her father?"

Emily sighed. "I think she's always known."

"Known?" Hotch asked, coming up to stand right beside her, his shoulder brushing hers.

"Or at least suspected her father wasn't completely clean in all of this," Emily replied.

"She thought her father killed her mother?"

"She didn't seem surprised that I was calling about her mother," she tried to clarify.

Hotch nodded. "We never want to report our parents."

"We never want to think our parents could do such a thing," she replied before turning her attention back to what was happening in the interrogation room.

"We're going to find the boots, Mr Sadler," Derek said. "And we've already got your DNA on the string of lights that killed Lily Clark."

"I helped her untangle her lights. She wanted to put them up," Mason said.

Dave stood, moving around the table. "What happened, Mason? What did Lily Clark do? From what we heard, she was a good woman, a fantastic mother."

Mason Sadler looked like he was almost sulking.

"She gave back to the community almost constantly. She did charity work, she donated to a number of charities, her and her husband-"

"She was a selfish bitch!"

Emily couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. He'd snapped.

"That's not the story we hear," Derek contradicted.

"Oh please. She and her husband were too busy... _canoodling_ to wrap presents for _needy children_. If it wasn't for your agents, we'd have been wrapping presents late into the night!"

"And that makes her selfish?"

"It's the stupid competition," Mason said, slamming his hands down on the table. "No one sees Christmas as a family holiday. They're too busy hanging lights, too busy thinking of the best gift, too busy wondering what they're going to get instead of thinking about those that actually _need_ help."

Dave moved back around the table, relaxing into his chair.

"And when they don't win, they sulk for weeks. They _ruin_ the holiday for their children! They're all the same!"

Derek leaned forward. "Is that why you killed your wife?"

"Of course! She was the worst! I _made_ Christmas for Holly. My daughter would not have a Christmas if it wasn't for me! Her mother was too busy worrying about how good the house looked to care about the traditions!"

Emily sighed on the other side of the glass. The outburst didn't surprise him. "His wife was sick," she said softly. "That was no reason to kill her."

"His mother took her own life on December 12," Hotch said softly.

She glanced over. She hadn't even seen the file he'd brought with him. "Are we sure?"

"No, but it was ruled a suicide. We'll never know."

Emily sighed, turning when the door opened.

Sheriff Tyde poked his head in. "Holly Sadler is here."

* * *

That night, after a day of ensuring Bozeman had everything they needed to close the case, the team wearily climbed onto the FBI jet. Emily took a seat on the bench almost immediately, opening her laptop. She needed something cheery after the day she'd had.

Holly Sadler had suspected that her father was at the end of at least some of the murders. The young woman was intuitive. She admitted she knew her mother was sick. She'd known Victoria Sadler suffered from depression. The weeks leading up to Christmas were ones she hated. Her parents never fought as much as they did when it was time to put up the decorations. Her father had always allowed her to decorate the Christmas tree and it was only when she was older that she noticed the decorations she put up would always change the morning after she did them.

"_She was obsessive-compulsive and I didn't realize that until I was probably about fourteen and a boy in my class was too. I realized that it was just what Mom had to do," Holly Sadler said, sitting in the conference room with instant hot chocolate Sheriff Tyde had produced for her. "I got upset at first, for the first few years after I realized she changed things, but... it helped to know it wasn't like she could help it."_

"_Do you know what set her off?"_

"_Natty," Holly replied almost immediately. "Mom always used to say Natty needed everything perfect for Christmas. Even after she died, Mom, I don't think, ever realized it. We had to tell her every Christmas that Natty was dead."_

"_She took her own life, right?" Emily asked softly, her own hand curling around the coffee mug on the table. _

"_That's how the police ruled it," Holly agreed. "But in my life, certainty just didn't happen. Between Mom's depression and OCD and Dad's... I don't know what he has, I was never sure what I was going to come home to."_

"_How bad was it?" Hotch asked quietly._

"_They never hit me, Agent Hotchner, if that's what you're asking. My parents loved me, even on Mom's bad days. I learned early on to hide my mess because it made my parents stop fighting. I probably have OCD, just not as debilitating as Mom's."_

Children, young people, like Holly Sadler always put Emily's life into perspective. Her mother wasn't OCD, per se, but she definitely had her mind on how the family looked to the outside world instead of necessarily what was best for her family. It was Emily's life and, much like Holly Sadler, she did have people that made her childhood Christmases memorable. So now, she sat on the plane, pulling out her blanket as she waited for her laptop to start up. Out of her laptop bag came a DVD case, _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_, and she inserted it into the CD drive, fully intending to settle back and watch.

She glanced up with a small smile when the bench dipped beside her. "Hey Hotch."

"Mind if I join you?"

She smiled. "Sure."

"What are you watching?"

This time, she blushed. "_The Grinch_," she answered. "Probably my favourite."

--

Hotch filed that away. He'd been hoping he'd get the chance to sit with her on the plane. Emily had been right when she said she'd looked at the case as blasphemous. It was always difficult to look at a case when it reminded him so much of his family. After all, it was difficult to think impartially about his family when it was so close to the holiday season. It was even more difficult to think that, in many ways, he wasn't going to play a part in his son's Christmas.

He accepted the offered ear bud and settled in for the movie.

They were about half way through the movie, the computer having moved from her lap to his so she could curl her legs beneath her – he'd notice she really enjoyed sitting like that, even kicking off a shoe to curl a leg beneath her while working on cases – when she rested a hand on his arm.

"Penny for your thoughts," she said softly.

He looked over at Emily, feeling the heat of her hand through his jacket. "Just thinking about Christmas," he replied vaguely.

She looked around the jet, ensuring that everyone else at least looked asleep. "Jack?"

He considered saying 'no', considered just telling her that it was about the holiday in general, but then realized she'd probably know he was lying. There was a fifty percent chance she'd push him at least a little bit if he lied. And if she was as good as he thought she was, she was bound to figure out at least the large majority of what was bothering him. "Yeah."

She took the ear bud out of her ear. "You said it yourself, Christmas is about tradition."

"But I won't be involved in most of our usual traditions. Not that I was any other year."

He noticed she didn't bother to hide her surprise. "Hotch, come on. Jack knows you love him, even if you can't be there all the time. Plus, it's not like you don't _want_ to be there."

This was true, but it didn't actually make him feel any better.

"You can make your own traditions, you know," she told him softly. "Just because you're not his primary caregiver doesn't mean the two of you can't start your own holiday traditions."

Hotch didn't know how to reply to that and pretended to focus on the movie.

"I have an idea."

Now he looked to her, noticing the secret smile and spark in her eyes. He was growing to really like that look. "I'm listening."

"Emmy and Carrie have a Christmas concert tomorrow night. Nothing fancy, just a bunch of elementary school kids singing slightly out of tune."

"I have Jack."

Her smile only widened. "Perfect. It can be one of your new traditions."

"Your nieces school concerts?"

She laughed softly. "Not quite. I bet Jack's school does one."

Hotch thought about it for a moment.

"Come. It can't hurt and it's all Christmas carols. A real Christmas lover wouldn't be able to say 'no'. And they're usually selling hot chocolate afterwards for the kids. I'm sure Jack will love it."

He smiled. Emily with children was an offer he was having a hard time passing up. "Sounds good."

"Excellent."


	11. Meet the Kids

**Chapter 11**

_December 11, 2008_

--

Hotch looked up as Emily knocked on his door. "Come in."

"Anne called."

"Anne?"

"Carrie and Emmy's mother?" She waited until he nodded to continue. "She can't pick up the girls. Do you mind if I call it early tonight?"

"Not at all." And it was the honest answer. Emily pulled way too many late nights as it was and he had noticed. It was only an hour and a half until quitting time anyway.

"Thanks," she said with a genuine smile. She dropped a piece of paper onto his desk. "Directions, if you're still coming."

"What time?"

"Seven thirty," she answered over her shoulder. It was obvious she was in a rush to pick up Emmeline and Carissa. "I'll wait outside."

"It's cold outside," Hotch replied, arching an eyebrow.

She smiled. "I've been in colder."

He always forgot she lived in Russia. "Okay."

"Thanks, Hotch. I'll see you later."

It sounded odd to his ears, but made his heart jump. It felt surprisingly good to hear a woman say she'd see him later. It felt better, much to his surprise, to hear _that_ woman say it.

"Daddy!"

But nothing sounded better than that.

* * *

"Emmy!"

Emily grinned widely at the little feet that raced towards her. "Jack!" She swept the small body up against her, hugging the little boy tightly. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Daddy said there were going to be Christmas songs!" Jack exclaimed, his small arm wrapped around her neck, the same way Carissa's often did.

Emily laughed. "There are!" she agreed. "And hot chocolate!"

Hotch smiled as he approached them, still mind-boggled to find how easy it was for Jack to relate to Emily. His son could talk about nothing but the dark-haired woman whose neck his arms were currently wrapped around since Hotch had mentioned Emily and the concert over dinner. The music, it seemed, was only secondary.

"Hey," she greeted with a smile, adjusting the four-year-old on her hip like she'd done it a million times. With two young nieces it wouldn't come as a surprise.

"Hello," he replied. Now that he was closer, he noticed the slight tension in what should ahve been relaxed shoulders and the slightly dishevelled hair, like she'd been running her fingers through it over and over again. "Everything okay?"

"I've been trying to get a hold of Anne," she answered, following him into the much warmer lobby of the elementary school. "No answer anywhere."

He wasn't exactly sure what to say. "I'm sure she'll make it."

Emily sighed. "I wish I had your faith,' she said. "And I can't fault her. She does everything for her girls."

Her worry made his heart and stomach do funny things.

"Emmy," Jack's hands went to her cheeks.

She laughed, her entire demeanour changing as she remembered the child she was carrying. "There's another Emmy here tonight," she told Jack.

Jack wrinkled his brow. "Two of you?"

--

"No," Emily corrected gently, trying to avoid meeting Hotch's eyes. He was standing right behind his son, right in her line of sight and it was a little disconcerting. She'd invited him to the concert and while she knew that, her time with Emmeline and Carissa had also given her time to go over her last couple of days. She'd wished for Anne then, another woman to talk through this with. Because every since she'd spent the early evening entertaining the younger Hotchner, the elder had been almost constantly at her side.

Hadn't he been the first one to share his unfortunate side of Christmas?

Hadn't he made sure, through all of their case work, that they made it to the gift wrap?

And she could definitely still remember the feeling of his body against hers only two nights before as she fell asleep in the freezing Bozeman police station. There was a memory she'd definitely filed away. That, and his rumpled appearance the next morning and the easy way they'd managed to find conversation that wasn't the case. She like seeing this side of Hotch, the side that was human and not cased in the Superman costume he put on as the BAU unit chief.

"Miss Prentiss!"

Emily subconsciously took a step slightly closer to Hotch at the voice that rang through the crowd. There had been more than a few days she'd had to race by the school right after work to pick up Emmeline and Carissa from the after school program Emily had insisted on when Anne had to take her second job. The principal ran the program and, the first time Emily had been by with Anne's permission to pick up the girls, had made no secret of how he had yet to find the right woman to settle down with. "Mr Paulson."

"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Steve?" he asked with a wide smile.

She felt inexplicably better when Hotch stepped closer.

"You brought a friend."

"Hotch, meet Mr Paulson, the principal."

Steve Paulson raised an eyebrow. "Hotch is an odd name."

"Nickname, short for Hotchner." Hotch's words were clipped and to the point. Still, it had the effect Emily had wanted. Having a nickname for the man beside her when she was so formal with the man in front of her had the perfect reaction

"And who is this?"

"Jack," Jack answered solemnly, tightening his hold on Emily's neck. She tried not to wince.

"We should probably head inside," Hotch said, sparing Emily any further conversation. "Find seats."

Emily shot him a grateful glance.

"I'll see you after the show, Miss Prentiss," Steve Paulson called as she felt Hotch place his hand on the small of her back. She'd analyze why she felt calmer with him so close later. For now, she had a concert to focus on.

* * *

"Auntie Em!"

Hotch's eyes widened as Emily spun away from him, Jack and the couple they were conversing with at the twin shout. She knelt down as the smaller girl reached her first and wrapped her arms around the small body.

"You were fantastic," she praised.

"Almost," the elder said with a pout, crossing her arms over her chest. "I messed up."

"You did not," Emily replied. "You were both fantastic."

Hotch put Jack down at the same time Emily pushed herself up from her crouching position. She smiled at him.

"Hotch, I'd like you to meet Carissa and Emmeline, my nieces. Girls, this is Hotch and his son Jack."

"Hiya Mister Hotch," Carissa said immediately, the more outgoing of the two. She was a tiny girl with wide green eyes and brown hair. Her sister was taller, a swimmer, by her shoulders and Hotch would bet that it was all Emily's doing she'd gotten into it at all. Emmeline had the same brown hair, but dark brown eyes to match and the quiet demeanour that screamed protective mother.

Hotch's hand fell to Jack's head as he clung to his father's pants. "I believe we were promised hot chocolate."

"Oh, can we Auntie Em?" Emmeline spoke up hopefully. "Please?"

He had to admit, he liked that little sparkle in her eye. "If Mr Hotch is buying."

He pursed his lips, but figured it was a small price to pay for her company. She'd been grinning the whole way through the performance, pointing both of her nieces out to Hotch through the course of the night. Eventually, she'd all but welcomed Jack into her lap, where he sat to enjoy the rest of the show. In many ways, it bothered Hotch that Jack seemed so taken with her. It was bad enough that his subordinate was almost always on his mind – the fact that they'd been working a case for the last week and thus, had been in constantly close quarters aside – without adding Jack to the mix. Because the boy was completely enraptured with 'Emmy'.

"I'll watch Jack," she promised. "They should have trays for all of the cups."

The urge to lean over and kiss her cheek was strong as he went to walk away, if only because it seemed like such a family thing to do. Hotch was the type of man that liked taking care of his woman and his family and while she wasn't his woman – _yet_, his urges argued, and strongly against his logical mind – she still was, in a way, his family. And he would buy as many hot chocolates as she wanted if it meant he got to watch her in action with her nieces. She'd seemed more than motherly with them as she'd greeted them. He'd only been slightly surprised that they hadn't asked about their mother. As he walked back to the table, he figured out why. Emily was sitting with Carissa tight to her side, Jack on her lap and Emmeline across the table, cell phone pressed to her ear.

"Okay, Mama. We'll see you when we get home." She hung up the phone, staring at it for a moment.

"What happened?" Emily asked softly, smiling her thanks as Hotch set the paper cup holder down.

"Work," Emmeline replied dejectedly. "She's always working. So she can take Christmas off."

"I brought my camera," Emily told the girl softly as Hotch watched. "She can watch it with you when we get home."

No one had to say that it wasn't the same. Carissa was thankfully busy talking to Jack about some inconsequential thing and Hotch was glad neither was paying attention. Emmeline, it seemed, was wise beyond her years and understood what was going on. That was the end of the conversation, however, as Emily made a great show of passing around the hot treats. Then Hotch was treated to the show of his life. He hadn't gotten to watch Emily with Jack while they were in the office, but now, he was a party to quite the interaction. As a man who read body language for a living, he noticed both Emily and Jack were comfortable with each other. She had no problem reaching out to tickle him or reminding him that the drink in front of him was going to be hot and he needed to be careful. She didn't seem to even mind when both Jack and Carissa curled up against her sides, sleepy.

"It's late," he said softly. "I should get Jack home."

"To Haley's?" Emily asked curiously, sitting quietly as he came around the little table she'd found to pick up his son. She shifted Carissa easily into her arms while Emmeline took care of the garbage.

"Yeah," he replied. "I get him on the weekend."

"That's good," she said with a wide smile, holding her hand out for the ten-year-old.

"It is," he agreed as they made their way out into the frigid air. He had to admit, he was happy Principal Paulson hadn't made good on his word to find Emily after the concert. His car was first, but he walked by it to ensure Emily made it to hers safely. With Carissa in one arm and holding Emmeline's hand with the other, he didn't feel comfortable about her being able to defend herself. She didn't say anything, just carefully packed Carissa into the child's seat in the back of the SUV. Emmeline climbed in the other side.

"Thanks for coming," she told him softly, absently reaching up to comb Jack's hair back. The little boy didn't stir.

"Thank you for inviting us," he replied, voice very warm. He could smell her again and it was intoxicating. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She smiled. "I'll bring coffee. Because you bought hot chocolate."

He wasn't about to argue with her. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

He hadn't made it three steps before little footfalls stopped him. Emmeline almost collided with his side but stopped herself just in time.

"Thank you, Mister Hotch," she said. "For watching Aunt Emmy for us."

He smiled, a full blown smile. "It's my pleasure."

And as that little ten-year-old raced back to her aunt's car, Hotch made a decision. Emily was a woman whom only a fool would pass up. And last time he checked, he wasn't a fool.

* * *

**_I'm late. This is late. I hate being late. _**

**_I chalk it up to a no good, very bad, terrible, horrible day. Stress is a pain in my bum. I promise to try not to be late tomorrow, but I have to actually write tomorrow's in between an essay. Some sort of higher being willing, I should be able to do both._**

**_Assuming I don't kill my roommates instead._**

**_Review!_**


	12. All Dressed Up

**Chapter 12**

_December 12, 2008_

--

Emily was humming as she walked into the bullpen the next day. Though Emmeline and Carissa had been upset their mother had been unable to attend the previous night's concert, Emily knew both girls were well aware Anne adored them through and through. So much so, that Emily had been up late so she could stay and watch the concert with Anne, Emmeline and Carissa. Slight tiredness was a small price to pay to see Anne's reaction and the comfort of her nieces.

She all but tossed her ready bag, freshly packed for the next case, as well as another travel bag, under her desk and almost set her computer bag down on a small, wrapped package on her desk. She wrinkled her brow as she set the bag down just to the side and carefully pulled the card off of the package.

_Saw this. Thought of you and children singing Christmas carols.  
-Secret Santa_

Emily's brow wrinkled. Who the heck could have dropped something on her desk between the previous night and when she walked in this morning? _Of course, you left early, _her mind reminded her. There was plenty of time for someone to drop a present on her desk. And a Secret Santa? The last time she checked there wasn't a Secret Santa going on in the BAU. Her fingers slid carefully under the tape, lifting the paper off carefully. It was her habit. She unwrapped things with as much precision as she did her job. Inside, was a single package of gourmet hot chocolate.

And suddenly, it all made sense. She couldn't help the way her body warmed at the thought that Hotch had left something on her desk. She wouldn't have figured it out if it wasn't for the reference to children and Christmas carols.

She'd had a fantastic night at the concert. Jack was quite the boy and Emily absolutely adored him. Even so, she'd been surprised when he'd climbed into her lap during the show. Emily had been more than happy to hum along with the songs in the four-year-old's ear. Hotch had moved over during a break in the performances, using the third seat to store their coats and Emily's purse. It had felt a lot like they were there for one of Jack's siblings. At the time, Emily had scolded herself quite thoroughly. Other than the issue of subordinate-supervisor, there was no way Hotch thought of her as anything other than a friend. She'd been there for him after his hearing had gone and she liked to believe her friendship with him was strong. Friends left fun little gifts.

So why hadn't he signed his name?

* * *

Hotch had no idea what had possessed him to leave the hot chocolate on her desk. More specifically, had had no idea what had him deciding to buy it in the first place. He'd seen it on his stop for breakfast on the way in and had thought of her. The next thing he knew, he'd picked up the chocolate powder and wrapped it up in fun paper he'd picked up in the nearby convenience store. It had been worth it to see her smile warmly through the blinds in his office.

Which brought him to the second part that had originally baffled him. While he had vowed to himself to go about classically courting the dark-haired woman sitting below in the bullpen, he certainly hadn't expected to start out with such a heartfelt gesture. Emily made him act without thinking, something that was new to him. He didn't do anything without thinking. He didn't take a step without thinking about it first. It was part of what made him so good at his job. Yet, when it came to Emily Prentiss, he'd picked up a package of instant gourmet hot chocolate without thinking.

Speaking of his subordinate, she'd been sitting in the bullpen not five minutes before – he wasn't going to admit how often he'd glanced into the bullpen over the course of the day. Now she was nowhere to be found. He seriously doubted she'd be leaving early two nights in a row. It wasn't generally Emily's style and after working with her for two years, he liked to believe he knew her working habits pretty well. The fact that she'd notified him yesterday of her early departure, also spoke her the chances of her simply leaving without telling anyone. And she owed him her paperwork from the case in Bozeman.

He noticed red before he noticed anything else. New people in the bullpen were rare so he wasn't surprised that everyone's gaze turned to the formally dressed woman. Even though Hotch had seen Emily with her hair curled a number of times, he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her as formally dressed as she was. He remembered seeing her dressed for fun only a few weeks before as she and Jordan Todd took on the pick-up artist Viper. Now that he looked back on that moment, he'd been very careful not to look at her all dressed to the nines. This time, it was too late by the time he realized it was her not to look.

And he noticed everyone else looking too.

Curls was only the tip of the iceberg. Her makeup was surprisingly simple in comparison to the night she'd headed out to beat Viper at his own game. The dress this time was red with three-quarter length sleeves. The skirt flared at her hips dropping down to her knees. Class met sexy in the deep vee of the neck of the dress. There was no pattern on the fabric, though as she turned, ostensibly to deal with Derek's teasing, he saw the thin string that tied in in a bow at the small of her back. He couldn't take his eyes from her.

His eyes followed her, drawn to her legs as she climbed the metal stairs to his office. He needed something to distract him from how well-defined her calf muscles were in heels.

"In your dreams, Morgan," she called as she stepped through his door. "Hey."

"You're dressed up."

"Anne and I are taking the girls to their annual show of the Nutcracker," she answered. "I'm going straight from here, and since it _is_ quitting time, boss, this is me, heading out for a night at the ballet."

"I didn't take you for a ballet lover," he said, his mouth once again ahead of his brain.

She laughed. "I spent a whole lot of time in Russia, Hotch. The ballet is like a staple."

Why did he always forget that she lived in Russia?

"Plus, Emmy and Carrie like it, so I don't mind going."

"You look beautiful," he told her, honesty and sincerity in his tone.

She blushed. "Thanks. Anyway, here's my Bozeman report. I'll see you Monday."

* * *

Emily's mind had not been on the Nutcracker. Which was unfortunate. Emmeline and Carissa hadn't noticed but Anne had known Emily long enough to know when her best friend was not paying attention. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's good," Emily answered, curling her legs beneath her skirt on Anne's couch. And it was. Just... well, confusing.

"I don't believe you."

Emily rolled her eyes at her friend as the other woman took a seat and passed her a glass of wine. Emily had gone back to Anne's apartment to tuck the girls in and catch up. They hadn't had the chance the previous night. "Work is good. Friends are good. Christmas is good."

"And your boss?" Anne crowed in laughter as Emily's cheeks went bright red. "Oh, honey!"

"What?"

"Tell me about it."

The way Anne moved back into the cushions told Emily that she was really going to have to spill. Anne was settling in for a long story. "I don't know what there is to tell."

"This from a woman who couldn't get enough of the little things just over two weeks ago? Something's changed."

Emily blew out a breath. "It's all Jack's fault."

"Jack?"

"Hotchner."

"There's two of them?"

"Oh no. Worse. A father and son."

Anne laughed. "Okay..."

"I helped Jack make a bunch of Christmas decorations about two weeks ago," Emily began. "Occupied him while Hotch finished with his paperwork."

"I don't know what that has to do with the far off look..."

"I'm telling a story," Emily scolded, slapping at her best friend. "Patience."

"When have you known me to be patient?" Anne replied.

"Practice. Those girls are going to hit their teenaged years sooner or later."

"You're avoiding the story."

Emily sighed. "The next night we ended up working late on consults over Christmas music. Then, as you know, there was the case."

"And nothing happened while you were away?" Anne questioned with a raised eyebrow. "Nuh uh, Lady, I want the _whole_ thing. You can't leave things out just because you were 'on a case'."

"He caught me on the phone with Emmy and Carrie."

"Night Before Christmas?"

"Yeah."

"Okay..."

"So I invited him to wrap presents with me for needy kids," Emily replied.

"And it was fun?" Anne mirrored the smile that grew over Emily's face. "I'm still not sure where this becomes a problem."

"It becomes a problem when he brings me my favourite chocolate. It becomes a problem when the warmest and safest I feel is cuddled against him. It becomes a problem when-"

"Whoa! Wait up there, Lady. What is this about cuddling?"

Emily had hoped Anne would just glaze over that little tidbit. Because it was the feeling of Hotch's body that had haunted her dreams almost every night since. And her body could come up with some seriously hot scenarios. "The power and heat went out while we were in Montana," Emily replied. "We were sharing body heat so I could go to sleep."

"Cuddling?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "When I woke up I was wrapped up in his arms."

"And yours were innocently tucked away?" The other woman squealed when Emily ducked her head against her chest. "Emily Prentiss!"

"They were innocently _placed_," she replied. "Though I can't say the same for his."

Anne's eyes opened comically wide. "What?!"

Emily winced. "Nothing."

"Why do you even bother to try!"

Emily rolled her eyes. "Under my blouse. On my back."

"I told you! Ages ago I told you!" Anne exclaimed

"And ages ago I told you that he was my _boss_. At the FBI no less. They don't exactly have the most forgiving fraternization policies."

"Is that who the girls were talking about last night? Your friend?"

"He came to the concert with me," Emily agreed with a blush. "He left hot chocolate on my desk this morning."

"Emily Catherine Prentiss, you have to go for it!"

"Fraternization, Annie! And that's just a start," Emily said. "I'm going to head home."

Anne wasn't about to argue. She could only hope as she bid her friend goodnight, reminding her to call when she got home, that one of them would make the first move soon. Emily was head over heels for her supervisor and it was painfully obvious to Anne. Emily deserved happiness of her own and if it was with her boss, then Anne was going to take it upon herself to find a way to have Emily saying screw the fraternization policies.

Somehow...


	13. On Santa's Knee

**Chapter 13**

_December 13, 2008_

--

Emily had not expected to end up at any mall on her Saturday. She had expected to get some of her lists done, some of her Christmas shopping. And for her shopping, she much preferred boutiques. Of course, it helped that the best gifts for many of her friends were found in little stores as opposed to big malls. However, Emmeline and Carissa wanted to see Santa and there was no way Emily could say no. So now, she carried Carissa in one arm while she held on to Emmeline's hand in the other.

Her agent training had her grasping Emmeline's hand probably tighter than she had to. It was hard to turn that part of her off even during her off hours and especially with children. She knew how fast a little child could go missing during the year, let alone at Christmas.

"I want that!"

Emily turned her head at Carissa's exclamation, catching sight of little puppies in the pet store window they'd just passed. "Honey, you can't get a puppy."

"Why don't you get the puppy and let us babysit when you go away?" Carissa asked, looking up hopefully at Emily.

"A puppy is a lot of responsibility," she said. "I'm away too often."

"Exactly! So it would be like our puppy!" Carissa exclaimed happily.

Emily sighed and rolled her eyes. "No, Carrie."

"Well I'm going to keep asking Santa 'til we get one," the six-year-old claimed.

Emily shook her head affectionately. "What about you, Emmy?"

"Aquadoodles," Emmeline said almost immediately.

"What are those?" Emily asked as she stopped at the end of the Santa line.

"Markers," Emmeline answered.

"Markers?"

"You put water in them and they only draw on a special mat."

Emily turned, surprised, to find a man and his young daughter standing behind them in line. "Oh."

"I'm getting them for my niece," he explained, with a smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

She really doubted it. A quick survey told him either that was his niece or he was a single father. And if she was honest with herselt, there was a different single father on the brain.

"Emily?"

_No way,_ her brain thought, just as she spun to find that same man standing a few people ahead of her, Emmeline and Carissa in line. "Hey."

Sure enough, it was Hotch standing with Jack.

"Mister Hotch!" Carrie wiggled out of her arms to race ahead and secure her fists in Hotch's pants. "We're here to see Santa!"

"I see that," Hotch replied, smiling down at her.

Emmeline stayed close to Emily. Emily knew it had everything to do with the fact that their father had walked out when Emmeline was seven. The older of the two girls remembered their father walking out and though Emily and Anne had tried their best to prove to Emmeline that people didn't always leave, there had been enough people in her life that had left in the last three years that Emmeline was slow to trust. Carissa, on the other hand, trusted easily in that innocently childish way. Emily didn't mind hanging on to her niece's hand.

"…And Barbie and Bratz and Polly!"

Hotch looked confused enough that Emily smiled. She wouldn't understand what Jack would want, so it didn't really surprise her that he didn't exactly understand Carissa's long list.

"And you, Emmeline?"

The ten-year-old looked surprised to be asked a question. "Aquadoodles."

"You enjoy drawing?"

Emmeline nodded shyly.

"Why not ask for an art set?" Hotch asked.

Emily smiled, touched that he was talking to them. Then another thought managed to weasel its way into her brain. Why? Why was he making nice with two little girls that he probably wouldn't see again? Then again, hadn't they run into each other two or three times since initially meeting?

"Because it's too much," Emmeline said honestly.

"Even from Santa?" Hotch asked.

Emily tilted her head at Jack, whose head was pillowed on his father's shoulder. The boy looked almost exhausted. She saw Hotch follow her gaze.

"He fell asleep in the car. Hasn't woken up yet."

Emily's eyebrows went up. "So he's not the spitting image of you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Jack," she said. "He's your spitting image except he doesn't wake clear-headed."

--

Hotch hadn't been able to believe his luck when he'd heard a voice he thought he'd recognized. The fact that something in him had roared up at the idea that another man was standing there, his posture telling the seasoned profiler he was at the very least intrigued, was only secondary to the idea that none other than the woman who had been on his mind for the past two weeks was standing so close. So he'd called out to her.

And then she'd gone and stunned him by telling him Jack was exactly like him. He always assumed that Jack would take more after his mother, simply because of all the time mother and son spent together. Emily's words made him feel inexplicably closer to his son and he smiled. It also made him realize that the fact that he woke completely alert was something she'd noticed. He stepped out of line, taking Carissa's hand and heading back to where she was standing. It would be easier for them to chat and he wouldn't feel bad about having two other children bud in line.

"I always see Haley in him," he said.

Emily shook her head. "Totally a Hotchner."

Hotch let out a full-blown grin, cataloguing the interesting changes that overtook her face. Relaxed was the best way he liked to see Emily. At least, the best way he wanted to see her that he'd experienced before. His mind had conjured up some interesting pictures of her the previous night. "I think I'm glad."

"You should be proud," Emily agreed.

He set Jack down, a little surprised to see how quickly Emmeline reached out for him. Apparently, there wasn't a child the older girl couldn't like, but she was extremely nervous around him. "Jack's a little afraid to go up by himself," he confided to Emily.

"I'll go with him," Emmeline volunteered, having apparently overheard the adults. "If that's okay with Jack."

"What do you think, Bud?" Hotch asked, briefly crouching down to his son's size. "Do you want Emmeline to go with you to see Santa?"

Jack, finger in his mouth, seemed to seriously consider the older girl for a minute. "'Kay," he finally answered.

And that was how he ended up standing off to the side of Santa who had Carissa on one knee and Jack on the other, Emmeline with her hand on the little boy to reassure him that someone was there. Aware was an understatement for what he was feeling as he watched his son and her nieces chatter away. Emmeline still stayed quiet.

"Is Emmeline okay?" he asked her softly.

"She's slow to trust," Emily responded, knowing without asking what he wanted to know. "She was seven when her father left and remembers it. An unwelcome bout of luck hit Anne and the girls and Emmy learned to trust no one who just waltzes into their lives."

"But I was invited," he said, almost surprised at his own joke.

Emily shot him a quick, but wide smile. "She just takes time," she said. "She wants to be sure you're not going to leave before she starts to trust you."

His hand met the fabric of her shirt between her shoulder blades and very, very lightly traced her spine until his hand rested at the small of her back. "I have no intentions of going anywhere."

--

Emily shivered, looking up at the glint in his dark eyes. She'd all but decided she couldn't pursue a relationship with Hotch, but that resolve was going to be difficult if she was interpreting his body language correctly.

"Auntie Emmy! Santa said he'd bring me a puppy!"

She was jolted out of whatever trance he had her in by Carissa's enthusiastic shout. She only had a few seconds to brace herself before the six-year-old made contact with her legs. "Did he?"

"Well, he said he'd try," Carissa corrected herself. "And Emmy's going to get her markers, and Santa said dinosaurs were hard to find but he'd try and get the elves to make some for Jack!"

"Wow," Emily chuckled. "Sounds like you had a lengthy conversation with him."

"A what?" Carissa asked, reaching up to grab Emily's hand.

"A long talk," Emily corrected herself as she watched Emmeline make her way over to them with Jack. She seemed perfectly at ease shortening and slowing her step so the four-year-old could keep up with her. She saw Hotch glance at his watch out of the corner of her eye and reprimanded herself for the weird twisting in her stomach. It was Saturday. It wasn't like she was never going to see him again. "In a hurry?"

He smiled down at her. "Not at all. I just hadn't realized we'd spent forty-five minutes in line."

Emily's eyes widened. "No!"

"Jack and I did," he corrected. "No wonder he fell asleep."

Emily's body relaxed as she laughed, watching Hotch hoist his son into his arms. The five of them left the little enclosure, no one really aiming any particular way. Carissa held Hotch's free hand while Emmeline stayed close to her aunt, obviously still not all that trusting of the dark-haired man. "What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?"

"I think tomorrow we're going to build a snowman," Hotch replied, looking to his son.

Jack nodded. "Snowman!" he agreed. "In'a park!"

"I want to build a snowman," Carissa said excitedly. "Can we Auntie Emmy?"

"Today?" Emily asked, trying to mentally figure out if they had enough time to play in the park before Anne would be home. Emily knew how important it was for her friend to spend time with her girls.

--

Hotch jumped on the opportunity she'd inadvertently presented him with. "Why don't you join us tomorrow?"

Emily looked a little stunned by the offer.

"Can we, Auntie Emmy?" Carissa said, turning wide hopeful eyes on her aunt.

Emily knew those eyes. She'd given into those eyes too often to count. "You'll have to ask your mom," she replied.

"Mommy's working tomorrow," Emmeline said quietly. "Remember?"

Emily sighed. She had forgotten.

"Please Auntie Emmy?" Carissa begged.

"Come play!" Jack agreed happily.

Since Emmeline didn't speak up to anything contrary, Emily had very little choice. "Okay."

* * *

**_I could offer you about eight different explanations as to why this is up on the 14th instead of the 13th, but that would make a long tedious paragraph. I'm off to study for my last exam, then write chapter 14. I cannot wait until I am done. Exams and stuffy noses are the banes of my existence. Them and writer's block, but hey, we can't have everything._**


	14. Snowballed

**Chapter 14**

_December 14, 2008_

--

"Carissa! You're next!" Emily called through her loft as she finished helping Emmeline with her last mitten. Carissa's impatience was legendary. At least Emily knew Emmeline would, at the very least, keep her complaints to a minimum.

They'd decided that the park closer to Emily's apartment would be better for playing. Her condo was in the more affluent neighbourhood in Annandale. While it didn't always broadcast safety, the park had a number of wide open spaces that were pretty much guaranteed to go untouched. Hotch and Jack were set to arrive any minute and they were supposed to be ready to simply head outside. Emily understood, having spent time with the energetic Jack Hotchner, that patience probably wasn't one of the boy's strong points.

"Carissa!" Emily called. "Now please!" She still had to put on her own snow gear.

Emmeline made herself comfortable against a wall. "Aunt Em? Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Emily replied, starting with Carissa's snowpants.

"Why are we spending so much time with Jack and Mister Hotch?"

Emily was stunned and surprised by the question. "We haven't been doing it deliberately," she said. "Do you not like Mister Hotch?"

Emmeline shrugged. "We've spent three of the last four days with them."

Emily hadn't realized that. On top of that, she'd been side-by-side with her boss – not to mention how close they'd been the night of the power outage – for 10 days prior to that. "Hotch just got divorced."

"But he's got Jack," Emmeline said.

"Not usually," Emily answered, handing Carissa her scarf as she tucked the little girl's boots into her snowpants. "Jack stays with his mom most of the time." Next came the six-year-old's coat. "Do you not like him?"

Like the first time her aunt had asked the question, Emmeline shrugged.

"I like Mister Hotch," Carissa said resolutely, sliding her hand into the mitten Emily held out for her. "And I like Jack."

"I'm glad," Emily said, laughter in her voice. She had a feeling Emmeline simply missed having her aunt all to herself. It had been a long time since she'd spent time with Emmeline. The ten-year-old was Emily's kindred spirit in a child. There was a lot Emily had in common. Quiet, reserved, slow to trust and endlessly loyal to those they loved and cared about. It had been Emily that had hooked Emmeline onto art, specifically onto drawing. She knew the little girl used drawing to escape, the same way Emily had when she was a little girl. It had been a long time since Emily had found a unique place for her and Emmeline to go drawing. She made a mental note to find a day for them.

"They're here!"

Emily jumped. She hadn't even heard the knock. Pushing herself up, she unlocked and opened the door with a ready smile. "Good afternoon."

Hotch was bundled in a ski jacket, snowpants and boots. His gloves were in one hand, Jack stood by his side, an identical smile on his face. "Hi."

"I forget how long it takes to bundle up two kids," she said, running a hand over her head, unwilling to mess up the knot she'd thrown her hair into.

--

Hotch couldn't find himself all that against the fact that she had yet to bundle up. While he'd seen her in jeans before, she'd picked a purple zip-up hoodie with swirling patterns in a slightly darker colour. It was zipped up to her neck, but it did nothing to hide the curves underneath. The way she had raised her arm made the sweatshirt and whatever she was wearing beneath it inch up to show just a hint of pale, toned stomach.

"Well, where's the park?" he asked. Jack got antsy when he got too hot, an inevitably bundled in his snowsuit.

"Across the street," she answered, flitting about the front all, making a pile out of her snow gear.

He nodded. "So why don't I take the kids and we'll meet you there when you're ready?"

"Snow!" Jack exclaimed, in obvious agreement.

Emily laughed, that free and happy sound he was slowly becoming accustomed to since he'd started spending so much time with him.

"There is snow," she agreed. "Lots of it. What do you think, girls?"

"I want to play!" Carissa replied enthusiastically. "Mister Hotch promised a snowman!"

"Emmy?" Emily asked. She wasn't surprised when the ten-year-old shook her head.

Neither was Hotch. He could understand Emmeline didn't trust him yet. "Carrie?"

"Coming!"

He smiled at Emily. "We'll see you in a few minutes."

* * *

Emily could not believe what she had just done. She'd let the impish side take hold and the next thing she knew, she'd packed a perfect snowball and thrown it at her supervisor. Even the children had gone quiet for a split second as they absorbed what was going on. Now, he was slowly turning to face her, his face a mask. She only had a half a moment to realize he was going to come at her to take off.

"Run Aunt Em!" she heard one of her nieces exclaim.

_I'm trying_, she thought to herself, glancing over her shoulder. She'd forgotten that running in snow was like running in sand. He was gaining on her. But she was more cunning. At the last second, she turned and twisted out of his grasp. Her nieces cheered, Jack jumped and Emily laughed as she made her way back to where the children were, still at a healthy speed. She knew it would take Hotch a few moments to turn and pick up speed again.

Or so she'd thought. Instead, much like she'd done to him, a snowball whacked her ponytail. "You hit me with a snowball!" she called to him.

"You threw one at me first," he called back, his hands already working on a new snowball.

Emily narrowed her eyes. "This is war, Agent Hotchner!"

"By all means, Agent Prentiss, give it your best shot."

Emily smiled, her brain already working. He made the first shot, which she easily ducked. What she hadn't expected was the way he'd charged after throwing the snow. She managed to dart around him, just barely, and ended up in a perfect position to hit him again. But she couldn't stick around. She made her way behind a tree, peeking out as she dropped to her knees, starting three simultaneous snowballs. She needed serious ammunition to take on Aaron Hotchner.

On the other hand, she couldn't remember laughing this hard. It was odd to see him fumbling about in the snow, remembering and forgetting as she did that it was difficult to run in snow boots. He was so smooth on the job, always quicker than lightening, always graceful. But here, they were on even ground, stumbling through the white snow as best they could. Until she miscalculated.

Hotch managed to get an arm around her waist, taking her to the ground with him and rolling her beneath him. Emily's breath caught unconsciously as she looked up into his dark eyes, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. His knees straddled her hips and his hands held her wrists, pinning her to the ground. His chest was heaving too as she relaxed back into the snow. They continued to stare at each other, neither really sure what to do. It was Hotch who started leaning in and Emily's breath caught again...

"I want to throw one, Aunt Em!" Carissa exclaimed, dropping innocently beside them.

Emily's eyes widened as she came back to herself. She couldn't understand the slightly lost feeling that took up residence in her throat as he moved off of her to flop on his back in the snow. Jack saw that as the perfect opportunity to climb on top of his father. As Jack sat on his father's chest and with Emmeline towering over them both as Carissa nattered away Emily realised one, all-important thing:

She could get used to this.

* * *

**_I do not enjoy the feeling of being constantly behind. However, I could not seem to get this baby out! Now I head into the three awkard days, as in days that I have no idea what kind of Christmas-like event I can put into them. Oh how I am not looking forward to the awkward days, *laughs*. _**

**_Suggestions are more than welcome. You'd be surprised at how impossible it can seem to find 25 different things to do with these people in between studying for a final! I never want to see criminal behaviour again. Ironic considering that's what Criminal Minds is based on...._**

**_I think I need to go to bed..._**


	15. Saucy, Spunky and Comfortable

**Chapter 15**

_December 15, 2008_

--

Monday felt odd. After spending days with Emily, after pinning her to the ground the previous day, it felt weird to be sitting in his office going about his work, knowing she would walk in any minute. Especially with the dreams he'd had the night before. He'd had a blast with the kids. Even Emmeline seemed to be at the very least warming up to the idea of him being around. She wasn't wary of him, even being the little minx that had managed to get snow down his back.

But it had been all worth it to see the happy smile on Emily's face, to see the laughter in her eyes. Jack made everything worth it, but the feelings that seemed to be popping up every time he was around Emily were worth so much more. So much, in fact, that he was currently debating the best way to deal with them. Policy said shove them down and forget about them, but he wasn't sure he was ready to do that. He'd been taught, trained, forced into following policy his entire life. Yet, he was also the man that had joined a play, regardless of how terrible an actor and singer he was, just to get his first wife.

He looked up at the sudden knock on his door, unable to suppress the small smile that flitted across his face. "Good morning."

"To you too," Emily replied, closing the distance between them, her arm outstretched. "Miscellaneous paperwork. End of my Bozeman report, expenses from that case... the usual."

He nodded, accepting the pages. "Thank you."

She shrugged. Then paused, chewing her lip. "We're having a consult brainstorming session in the conference room after briefing," she said. "You're welcome to stay and work with us."

He remembered her telling him about these sessions they often had, a way to make the time go faster and the added bonus of having someone around to bounce ideas off of. Hadn't they had their own two weeks before? "If it's not intruding."

Emily actually rolled her eyes. "You're part of the team too, as much as you seem to want to deny it. By definition it's not intruding."

There was something else he'd noticed with her. Much like with Dave and Derek, she had taken a different attitude with him. Saucy, spunky, much different than the reserved woman he was used to. He could only think of it as her becoming more comfortable with him. She seemed more likely to show her annoyance at him. "Okay."

"Great! Derek should be walking through that door in three, two, one," she said, not even glancing up as sure enough, Derek strolled through the glass doors on her count. "So I will see you in ten minutes."

Once again, Hotch couldn't stop the smile that blossomed over his face as she turned to leave. Regardless of how borderline insubordinate she was becoming, he knew it was all Emily Prentiss. When it came time for her to do her job, she would follow orders without trouble. In the meantime, he didn't mind the spunky woman who had just reminded him that he was as much a part of the team as she was.

And what a part of the team she was. Elle had never fit, not like Emily did. He didn't often like to compare the people in his lives, but it was human nature. Emily seemed more in tune with the needs of her colleagues. Hotch liked that. He liked that they seemed closer than a family, even if he'd felt on the outside of that family for some time. Nevertheless, and as usual, Emily had made a good point. The only reason he was on the outside was because he wanted to be, because he'd never put himself in a situation to show the team otherwise.

He flipped open the expenses folder, eager to get that signed off and on its way. But something surprised him before he could even pick up his pen. A picture sat tucked into the file of him and of Jack. He remembered Emily getting out her camera the day before, when they'd all made their way back to her condo. He could remember her shy admission that she was a shutterbug, because Anne missed things and Emily wanted to document them, but he didn't remember this particular picture. He was sitting on her couch, Jack on his lap, son looking up at father with the most awed expression on his face while his father smiled. He couldn't even remember what was going on.

Hotch flipped the picture over. _Thought you'd like to see this. You're a fantastic father. – E._

It was totally and completely settled. Emily Prentiss was going to be his, even if he had to manipulate Christmas to do it.

* * *

She'd been sniffling all morning and it was driving her nuts. Emily Prentiss did not get sick and she wasn't about to break that rule now. So she'd mentally catalogued everything she could quite possibly do to pre-empt this bout of the sniffles.

"Girl, are you getting sick?"

Emily glared at Derek. "Of course not," she replied. "Why would you think that?"

"You've been sniffling since we started," Reid said, in that voice that made him sound like he was simply spouting facts. "Plus the tea, which is not usually your drink of choice at the office."

"I drink tea all the time," Emily contradicted. "I'm not getting sick."

"Mentality is half the battle," Hotch murmured from beside her.

She smiled triumphantly. "Exactly. I'm not sick. This guy, however, could be."

"Oh?" Hotch asked, abandoning his own report to glance over her case. "Two profiles."

"Nuh uh," she contradicted, shaking her head and ignoring the brief smell of him that wafted into her nose. "Multiple personality disorder."

"Pass it here," Derek ordered.

Emily did, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, tea mug in her hand. She felt a thrill when she caught Hotch's gaze running over her in her peripheral vision. She could remember feeling him straddling her yesterday. She could still taste the anticipation on her tongue. She was sure he was going to kiss her, right there in the snow, and while it wasn't her ultimate fantasy kiss, it came pretty damned close. Something was changing in her unit chief and it completely surrounded her. They were doing a new and different dance, a change from the strictly-supervisor-subordinate one they'd been doing since her transfer, and even slightly altered from their quasi-friendship that had grown after New York.

"I'm with Hotch," Derek said, shaking his head. "Two profiles, two UNSUBs."

Emily blew out a breath as she took the pages back. "Just once I'd like to be right."

"You usually are," Dave spoke up.

"Thanks Dave," she responded wryly, pulling herself back to the table. "Tell me yours is more interesting."

She almost smiled when it took Hotch a few minutes to realize she was talking to him. However, he surprised her by simply switching the files. "This guy isn't even a serial killer."

"No, but some police like the cushion they think a profile gives," he said.

"You're patronizing me." She almost stuck out her tongue.

"You wanted to see my consult," he pointed out.

--

Derek watched the volley back and forth with interest. Something was changing with his best friend and his boss and it was changing rapidly. He hadn't noticed it right away, hadn't even noticed it their first few days in Bozeman, but he had noticed it the morning after the power went out. They'd all basically crowded around the only woman in their midst after she'd won the argument and Reid had curled up on the couch. It was an unconscious habit for all of them not only to protect Emily, but to protect JJ too. He'd heard her tossing and turning and couldn't really blame her. A slip of a woman like her was bound to get cold in the night.

He'd also heard the hushed conversation she'd had with none other than Hotch in the wee hours of the morning. He hadn't been able to see much in the dark, but he heard rustling and shuffling, enough to clue him into the fact that his best friend and his boss were probably currently in a very compromising position. It had given him pause and, more than that, resulted in him watching closer than he had before. There was an ease and comfort about them the next morning. He'd wandered out of the conference room intent on the bathroom to find them chatting away in the break room, both of them with mugs of coffee, Hotch turned towards his dark-haired companion.

If he was honest, he wasn't sure what to make of it. He wanted his friends to be happy. He always wanted his friends to be happy and, in many ways, he felt no one deserved it more than Emily did. And he wasn't stupid. He knew, despite the seminars and regulations to the contrary, fraternization was not a new thing to the FBI. In fact, he could name two or three relationships off of the top of his head that had worked out in Quantico alone. That, however, he chalked up to the fact that many of the specialized departments of the Bureau were located in Quantico.

The BAU was one of them. He knew they saw some of the most horrific things one person could do to another and so, he knew how important it was for an agent to have someone to talk to. JJ and Reid talked to each other, closer than close, siblings in their own right. He talked to Garcia, always and constantly and she had the uncanny ability to get things out of him without really trying. He'd always assumed Emily talked to Garcia as well, at least when she didn't talk to him. But he had no idea who Rossi or Hotch talked to. He had no idea if they talked to anyone at all and in their line of work, relationships, platonic or otherwise, were more like a lifeline.

He'd have to keep an eye on them. Because if their body language was any indication, they were both aware of the attraction between them. What remained to be seen was what would come of that attraction and whether or not it was hot enough to potentially tear the team apart. He certainly hoped not. He loved Emily like his sister. The last thing he wanted was to see her hurt. If Hotch's gaze was anything to go on, or Emily's blush for that matter, Hotch was one man for the potential to hurt her. And really, he didn't want to have to hit his boss.

* * *

**_I have nothing to say except to point out that I am finished my last final tomorrow. That is all! Now review!_**


	16. What Daddy Wants for Christmas

**Chapter 16**

_December 16, 2008_

--

Emily was a linguist. Voices were her specialty. So it was surprisingly easy for her ears to pick Jack's childish babble out of the constant bustle of the crowd. She sought out his little body with her eyes, but couldn't recognize the woman leading him by the hand.

"Em'ly!"

She couldn't stop the smile that spread over her face as his eyes lit up. She spun her desk chair, opening her arms for the little body that raced towards her. "Jack!" She wrapped him up in her arms grinning. "Is it your night to see Daddy?"

"Yup!" he exclaimed happily, rearranging himself on her lap. "We eat!"

"Most people do," she agreed, tickling him slightly.

Jack laughed loudly, loud enough that Hotch emerged from his office, making his way down the stairs. "Jack!"

"Hiya Daddy! I'm sitting with Em'ly."

"So you are," Hotch answered with a smile. "Hello Patty."

"Aaron," the older woman nodded.

"Thank you for bringing him by."

"Haley got held up or she would have," Patty replied with a small smile. "You'll bring him home?"

"I will," Hotch promised.

Emily kept her eyes on Jack through the exchange, though she was sure no one missed the slight awkwardness between the adults. Jack was babbling away on her lap and so she focused on him. It was easier than to address the awkwardness. However, her attention shifted when she felt the warm weight of what could only be Hotch's hand on her shoulder.

"That's Haley's mother," he answered her unasked question quietly.

Emily nodded. "I'm sorry."

Hotch hoisted his son into his arms. "This is all that matters."

"Hiya Daddy!" Jack said again, wrapping his arms around his father's neck. "Can we play with Em'ly, Emmy and 'Rissa 'gain?"

Emily managed to withhold her chuckle. It hadn't gone unnoticed that Jack seemed to have developed a little crush on Carissa's happy demeanour.

"Maybe soon," Hotch promised.

"Yay!" Jack exclaimed.

Hotch smiled. "I have a few things to finish up."

"Can I stay with Em'ly?" Jack asked innocently, his eyes meeting his father's. "Play?"

Emily was honestly surprised. Sure, she'd been spending more time with both the Hotchner men, but she had no idea Jack had taken to her so quickly.

"If it's okay with Emily," Hotch acquiesced.

Emily considered that a moment. "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" he asked, setting Jack down.

Emily nodded, reaching for the little boy. "Of course. Who wouldn't want to spend time with such a handsome boy?"

Jack giggled as she tickled him again. "Yay! Snowflakes?"

"I guess we can make snowflakes," Emily agreed.

Jack seemed more than happy with that.

* * *

"Em'ly?"

"Yes Jack?"

Emily's desk was a mess. There were paper bits everywhere and a number of 'snowflakes', both hers and Jack's. In some ways she felt bad that she had so many years on him. She was skilled with pair of scissors, something she'd learned for Carissa and Emmeline. Those girls couldn't have access to unlimited craft supplies, but they could make do with what they had.

"What are you getting Daddy for Christmas?"

Emily froze, unconsciously glancing up at Derek, who was still in the bullpen. He looked as surprised as she did. She was glad Reid and Dave were away on some sort of consult. "I don't know."

"'Cause I gotta get a present."

She'd never even considered getting Hotch a Christmas present. It hadn't crossed her mind at all, considering for the longest time they'd barely been friends. She was planning on handing over a Christmas card, but that was about it. A gift? "Why not make him a snowflake?"

Jack wrinkled his nose. Then he shook his head.

"What about a tie?" Emily suggested, unfolding the last snowflake she'd just made.

"He got too many ties," Jack said, shaking his head again.

Emily sighed. She had no idea, not even the slightest. Because it wasn't something she'd thought of herself. Now that she thought about it however, it seemed like such a good idea. She already had something for Derek and even Dave but Hotch was just one of those people that was not only difficult to buy for – or so she'd thought, before she'd had the honour of getting to know him – but she was afraid of the message she'd send. If his behaviour over the past couple of days was any indication, she probably had very little to worry about. "A picture?"

"Of Mommy?"

"No, honey," Emily said, shaking her head adamantly.

"Of you!"

"No," Emily repeated, trying not to think about the way her brain had started swimming at that thought. "Of you. Of you and your dad."

Jack seemed to consider this. "But how?"

"Well, we can take one."

"You're going to come play?" Jack asked.

"I'm sure your mom would have a picture of you and Daddy," Emily responded, evading the question. She didn't want to think of the possibility of spending more off time with her boss if only to ensure she didn't get her hopes up.

Jack seemed to think about this. However, his thought process was interrupted by his father's emergence from his office.

"Ready to go, Jack?"

"Yeah!" Jack exclaimed happily. He turned his dark-eyed gaze up to hers. "Are you coming?"

"No, I don't think so," Emily replied with a gentle smile. "This is your time with Daddy."

Jack looked unhappy with this turn of events, but he allowed his father to help him into his jacket. "Bye Emily!"

Emily waved as father and son left the bullpen. She turned away from Derek and started cleaning the paper off of her desk.

"No way, Girl," Derek said, going as far as to stand up from his desk to capture her hands. "What was that about?"

"What was what about?"

"Why would Jack think a picture of you would make a good present for his dad?"

Emily shook her head. "I have no idea, Derek."

"Nuh uh, I think you do," Derek contradicted, keeping a gentle but firm hold on her wrists. "There something you want to tell me?"

"No," Emily answered. "There's nothing to tell."

"And yet Jack seems perfectly content to just sit here and make snowflakes with you? Why do I find that hard to believe?"

Emily shrugged, tugging on her arms. "I have no idea."

"You have no idea how your boss' son is comfortable with you?"

"You were here the first day Jack was here," Emily replied. "We've spent a little bit of time together, it's not that much of a surprise that he's the most comfortable with me."

"No, but he seemed more than just comfortable with you, Em," Derek said. "How much time have you been spending with Hotch?"

"That, Derek Morgan, is none of your business."

"A lot then," Derek said. "I wondered why you barely blinked an eye about cuddling close in Montana."

"Shut it," Emily snapped. "You're prying into private business."

He shook his head. "Not at all. I'm trying to figure out where you two stand."

"We don't stand anywhere." Emily didn't realize the slight bitter tone had slipped into her voice.

"But you want to," Derek said, having picked up on it. "Why not?"

Her eyes widened. "You mean to tell me you'd be okay with it?"

"Why not?" he repeated, shrugging.

"Do you know how quickly it could break up the team?"

"Do you know how much stronger it could make the team?" he shot back. "You're not blind, Em."

"I could get used to it," she agreed reluctantly.

Derek grinned. "I thought so."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"It means everything, Em. He deserves this after what he went through with his ex. _You_ deserve this."

Emily sighed. She wanted it. She'd already decided she could get used to spending time with Hotch and Jack outside of work, seeing her boss relaxed, happy. It was easy to get used to because that was just the type of person Hotch seemed to be outside of work. But to actually go through the relationship, not just imagining it, that was a different story entirely. That didn't mean she'd missed the odd light in Hotch's eyes as he'd watched her with Jack. "I don't know."

"Oh yes you do," Derek said. "You know exactly what you want."

Emily blew out a breath. "I know exactly what I want," she agreed.

She knew by the look in Derek's eyes that was exactly the opening he was looking for. "So go for it."

* * *

**_This took me way too long. I've called this, tomorrow and yesterday's chapters the hump chapters because I really didn't have anything concrete for them. It happens every year. There's always a couple of chapters I have the worst time writing. However, I have a better idea of what I want to do with the one I'm supposed to post for the 17th, so hopefully (and with the fact I'm now done until January) I should be able to put it up much quicker and definitely before midnight._**

**_And I am still working on my other stories. It was simply that finals and this story took precedence. I'm set to work on them now that I have nothing else to do._**


	17. Cold Hands, Warm Hearts

**Chapter 17**

_December 17, 2008_

--

For all of the days Hotch had never taken off, a little cold, in his mind, should not hold him down. It was the reason he'd pulled himself out of bed that morning, going about his usual morning routine without thinking twice. Much like Emily, he simply continued to tell himself he wasn't sick. He'd been sniffling yesterday, but not enough to concern anyone, least of all himself. After all, Emily had been doing the same and she'd seemed perfectly find when she waltzed into the bullpen the previous day.

Now, however, four hours later, his head was throbbing and he could not breathe through his nose. While the latter was not new, for he hadn't been able to breathe through his nose that morning, he did not appreciate the headache that seemed to want to accompany his annoying nose. He dropped his pen for the millionth time, his hands coming up to massage his temples and above his eyes. It hurt. A lot.

"Hotch?"

Her voice sounded so far away that he just assumed he hadn't heard it. However, that same melodic voice called his name again. The third time, accompanied by a touch to his shoulder, told him that she was, indeed, real. "What can I do for you?"

"That seems more like a question I should ask you," she replied. "We wondered if you were okay yesterday."

"I'm fine."

"Good, then sign these."

She had to have known the light was bothering him with his headache. Still, he picked up his pen and flipped open the first file. He could feel her watching him as he did it and hoped that the winkle between his eyebrows he knew formed when he was in pain. When he closed the last file and looked up at her, he knew he hadn't succeeded.

"Thanks," she said, meeting his eyes. "I'm going to drop these off, then you're going to come with me."

"I'm sorry?"

"I know the perfect way to stop the cold in its tracks," she said. 'Trust me, and get your coat."

Part of him wanted to reprimand her for the way she'd ordered him around, but the bigger part of him was starting to realize that this was Emily Prentiss hovering. She'd hovered over Reid, JJ, even Garcia. Morgan was often on the receiving end of Emily's maternal instinct and he'd seen her bring Dave breakfast a few times when Hotch realized the older profile had spent the night in the office. But never had her mother hen habits been focused on him. Not to mention that the chances were that whatever she had planned wouldn't involve anyone else. So he stood slowly.

Emily made quick work of getting herself ready, dropping the files on her desk in a surprising disorganized fashion for a woman Hotch swore had OCD tendencies. She snatched her coat from the back of her chair, ignoring Morgan's curious glance and led the way out of the bullpen.

"Emily, where are we going?"

"You'll see."

It was half an hour later that they pulled into a back parking lot. He was antsy. He didn't do well with surprises. His job ensured that he tried to account for all things that could quite possibly pop up to surprise him, so he didn't like them that much. More often than not, it meant he'd made a mistake. Hotch didn't like making mistakes.

"Emily—"

"Stop. You sound like your son about to whine," she said, climbing out of the car. "Not only do I have cold medication for you that will help with the congestion and the headache, but I am about to let you into one of my best kept secrets."

That caught hold of him. He wanted to know her best kept secrets, especially since he was planning on turning their friendship to a romantic relationship. So he followed her willingly as she went around the building into the bustling street on the other side. He only got a glimpse of the sign above the front door before she was pulling it open and holding it for him.

"Welcome, Agent Hotchner, to Warm Hearts."

He arched an eyebrow, his blood warming at her little giggle.

"They make the best soup I have ever had. You want something that will cure a cold in a snap? This place is it."

"Emily!"

Hotch watched as the old man behind the counter greeted her happily, coming out from behind the counter to wrap her up in a big hug. She hugged him back, that smile still wide.

"I didn't expect you back this soon."

"I know, Ted, neither did I."

"And who is this? You never bring anyone to visit."

Emily turned to him with that wide smile he was starting to grow extremely fond of. "Aaron Hotchner, Meet Ted Queen, the owner of Warm Hearts."

"This is Agent Hotchner?" the man asked Emily. "Well it's about time you brought him here, Missy!"

Goodness he loved that pink colour that blossomed across her face when she blushed.

"She talks about you," Ted said. "And the rest of your team. She certainly likes her work."

"We like having her," Hotch said, still a little overwhelmed. The place was more like a little cafe than anything else, a place that screamed simple hang out spot as opposed to the upscale woman who had brought him here.

"We're going to need a bowl of chicken noodle soup," Emily said. "And I'll have a turkey sandwich."

"No soup for you?" Ted asked, his eyes watching the two.

Hotch noticed and raised an eyebrow, both at him and the quick simple way Emily placed their supposed order. "Soup?"

Ted was already walking away as Emily headed off towards a table. He had no choice but to follow her. She slid into one side of the booth she'd chosen and he slipped into the other side. "What is this place?"

"This is probably my best kept secret," she said, paraphrasing herself from only a few minutes earlier. "I love this place, but it's so far out that I don't usually get a chance to come here."

He raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't what Mr. Queen said."

That pink showed up on her cheeks again. "Okay, I come here more often than I'd like to admit, mostly on my way home. Ted makes the greatest chicken soup. It's my secret to how to avoid sickness, even something as simple as a cold. I don't know what's in it, but when I had the sniffles on Monday, this was the first place I went."

"And it helped?"

"I'm not sick, am I?" she said with a little laugh. "Come on, Hotch, it can't hurt. Trust Ted."

"I trust _you_," he told her, pulling off his coat. She was right. Not only could it not hurt to just eat the soup, but some time alone with Emily wouldn't hurt him in the slightest. It had been a long time since they'd been able to just be the two of them. Even then, the team had been around them. The plane, the precinct... they weren't really alone then.

"I'm glad," she said primly. "Because you are about to eat the greatest chicken noodle soup ever and trust me, I've had my fair share of chicken noodle soup through my life."

* * *

It was the best chicken noodle soup he'd ever had. Combined with the two Tylenol she slid his way when their drinks came and Aaron Hotchner felt very much like a new man. And the only person he could thank for that was still sitting across from him. He'd known that they were compatible outside of the BAU, but most of the time, there had been children around. It was very easy to forget they had a terrible job to get back to.

"We stay here any longer Derek's going to send out a search party," she said with a sigh. "Ted!"

"It's already on your tab," the owner responded.

"Add two teas please," she said. "One lemon with honey and... apple cinnamon, please. To go."

"You got it kiddo."

"Emily-"

"Nuh uh, I brought you here, my treat. Drink the tea, it'll help."

So this is what it felt to have her taking care of him. She was a bossy woman when she was being a mother hen. Hotch thanked Ted when he set the two paper cups on the table and Emily passed him a handful of bills. He'd have to take her out for dinner now, to pay her back. At least it made for a good excuse.

They walked back to her car, side-by-side.

"I can see why you kept that a secret," he said, climbing into the passenger's seat of her car.

Emily grinned at him as she started the car. "Don't tell."

Part of him perked up at the idea that there would be a little secret like that between them. When had he turned from a forty-something FBI agent to a fifteen-year-old with a crush on a girl? "Secret's safe with me."

"I know," she promised. She sighed as she pulled out of the parking lot. He sipped on his tea as she navigated through the streets.

"Why Warm Hearts?" Hotch asked, uncomfortable with the quiet after they'd chatted over lunch.

Emily's smile was affectionate. "Ted lost his wife nine years ago, right before he retired from his job as a chef at some restaurant. The way he tells it, Warm Hearts comes from something his wife used to say. 'Cold hands, warm heart'."

He recognized the look on her face, the same one she had when she was looking at Emmeline and Carissa. Affection. He'd seen it targeted at Jack and at Reid.

Emily swung the car into the parking garage where she usually left it and Hotch felt his heart jolt. He'd had a good time over lunch, talking about everything and nothing, about the interesting paperwork that had come across her desk and his, about Jack and her nieces. It was easy and felt so normal.

They walked in silence to the elevators that would take them into Quantico and then the BAU. Suddenly, and for a reasons he would analyze later, instinct and courage took hold. Hotch reached for her, grabbing her hand before she could press the button for the elevator. He watched her turn back in surprise seconds before he placed a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

And just like that, they both knew things had changed.

* * *

**_And I actually thought for a minute there I'd have this up by midnight. According to my computer, it is 12:01. Bother. Let's just say my day didn't turn out the way I thought it would. I expected to have more time to get this out, but hey, life gets in the way._**

**_Now, here is sad news, kind of, but not really. Because my goal is to have this and Seducing David Rossi done by December 25th, I will be putting Dark of Night and Growing Up BAU lower on the update list. Don't get me wrong, I haven't forgotten them by any stretch of the imagination, its just a matter of time. With less than a week to finish both of them (and I'm hoping for about 12 chapters in Seducing David Rossi), something has to be put aside. We'll see what happens though. There was that day I updated 5 different stories, so there's hope for them to be updated before Christmas!_**


	18. Your Friends' Honest Opinions

**Chapter 18**

_December 18, 2008_

--

"So where did you disappear to at lunch yesterday?"

Emily looked up at JJ's question, a glass of red wine in her hand. Since Christmas was coming, she, JJ and Penelope had all decided it was a better idea to exchange their presents in case things got hectic again. So they were gathered at Penelope's place, her very purple walls all around them, gifts lying under the tree as they chatted and gossiped.

"I went out for lunch," Emily replied vaguely.

Penelope raised an eyebrow. "Since when were you and Boss Man close enough to eat together?"

Emily knew she was in trouble from the way JJ's eyes widened. "What?!"

"You didn't know?" Penelope asked, turning to the media liaison. "None other than Aaron Hotchner was following her like a puppy out of the bullpen yesterday."

"He's got a cold," Emily protested. "I found him some soup."

JJ leaned back against Penelope's couch. "You have been spending a lot of time with him recently."

Penelope nodded her agreement.

"How would you know?" Emily asked, sipping from her wine glass. It was already shaping up to be one of those inevitable nights of interrogation from her blond counterparts.

"Derek mentioned something about a night in Montana," Penelope offered. "You two got cozy."

"What?" JJ repeated. "Not only am I completely out of the loop, but why does everything good happen when I'm not there?"

Emily, by this point, knew she was bright red. "Most of it just happened. First of all, Montana was cold. The heat died with the power and body heat is effective. Second, he overheard me talking to my nieces, and it wasn't like we deliberately met them in the mall going to see Santa."

Both blonde's eyes widened.

"How much time _have_ you been spending with Hotch?" JJ asked, her voice hushed with awe.

Emily closed her eyes, both mentally counting to ten and trying to figure out how many days she'd actually seen her boss. "Um… a lot?"

"Nuh uh, in numerical form," Penelope scolded.

Emily was blushing again. "We've run into each other and spent time together both work and non for the last seventeen days."

"_Seventeen days_?!" JJ exclaimed. "Seriously?"

"Would you lie to Penelope Garcia?" Emily asked, drawing on her reserves of diplomatic training to keep her voice from shaking. The eyebrow raise that accompanied her words was calm and controlled.

JJ shrugged her agreement.

"What have you been doing?"

_Discovering that it is possible to fall even more in love with one's boss? Finding out that while Hotch working is hot, him with his son and my nieces is even more attractive? Realizing that he's a man as much as he is my boss?_ "Inadvertently sharing Christmas traditions," she said finally.

"Christmas traditions? That's the best you can come up with?" Penelope asked.

"I'm sorry?"

JJ and Penelope exchanged a glance.

"You haven't exactly kept your attraction to him a secret," JJ said delicately.

Emily blinked. She hadn't _what_? "I'm sorry?" she repeated.

"Is sharing traditions the only thing you've been doing?" Penelope asked, "'Cause Derek said Hotchner Junior looked rather comfortable on your lap the other day."

"Jack was in the bullpen?" JJ asked, rubbing her bulge slightly.

Penelope nodded. "Derek said he saw our Em here and took off running. Looked like he was almost more excited to see her than to see his daddy."

"Not true," Emily contradicted. "He just knows Hotch has to work."

"But you'll do arts and crafts with him?" Penelope asked.

Emily was going to kill Derek. Either that or have a serious conversation with him about what kind of things he could tell Penelope. The woman was endless when it came to finding out the latest gossip.

"And now lunch?" Penelope continued. "Have we missed something?"

"There's nothing going on," Emily said strongly. "Hotch has a cold, in case you couldn't tell. It was worse yesterday, but I know this place that makes the best chicken noodle soup, that's all. And I was done everything I needed to have done, so I didn't mind watching Jack for a bit. It's not a big deal."

"Oh? Would you like to tell us the rest of what you've been doing?" Penelope inquired.

"Actually, I'd like to know what it was like to be pressed close against him in Montana," JJ replied.

Emily blew out a breath. "What are you two getting at?"

"Something's a'changing," JJ spoke up first.

Penelope nodded. "Hotch sounded… happier in Montana. Derek says he hasn't looked as severe recently."

Emily really didn't want to tell them about the kiss on the cheek. Sure, in most books it was nothing, but between two people as reserved as she and Hotch were it spoke of many things. And she knew it. From the way his pupils had dilated he knew it too. Part of her had even wondered if he would have actually kissed her had the elevator been half a second later.

"Emily?"

Emily met JJ's blue eyes.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," Emily said honestly. "Nothing is going on."

"Yet?" JJ asked softly. "Em, you've wanted this…"

"I know," Emily agreed. "I still want it."

"So you're going for it?" Penelope asked, eyes wide in surprise.

"Not in so many words."

JJ and Penelope exchanged a glance. It annoyed Emily sometimes because she could read them both. "What is it?"

Penelope moved to her tree, pulling from beneath it a small rectangular package. "This is from both of us."

Emily arched an eyebrow. It wasn't like her friends to change the subject half way through an interrogation. "You sure you want me to open this now?" She'd much rather get through the interrogation before going through the gift exchange.

"Just open it."

So she did, carefully, as she always opened gifts. The white cardboard box inside gave her no clue. But what she slid out of it, surprised her. The frame – it really felt like pictures was a theme in her life – was plain and black, but the picture spoke without words.

"I managed to snap it without you guys seeing," Penelope said softly.

It was her and Hotch. They were sitting on a blanket, under a tree, shoulder to shoulder. Emily could remember that July day. They'd been celebrating something, though what exactly she couldn't quite remember. Not that it mattered. It was the last time she could remember seeing him so relaxed before the weekend with Jack and in the park with her, Jack, Emmeline and Carissa. She was laughing and he was smiling and she could see the same look on his face that had been there the few seconds between his lips making contact with her cheek and the elevator dinging its arrival.

"Em?"

"I want to throw the Bureau aside," she said softly. "I want to ignore the regulations and I've been trying to. In our job, finding someone who understands what's going on, what it's like to see what we see… that's rare. Really rare."

"To see Hotch smiling like that is rare," JJ replied, her voice equally as soft.

"Trust me, you don't need to convince me of anything," she said honestly.

"Then what's holding you back? The Bureau?" JJ asked.

Emily's eyes darted between her friends. "Not anymore?"

"Anymore?" Penelope inquired, eyes widening. "What happened?"

"Nothing earth shattering," Emily promised. "Just… a moment."

Penelope watched her friend for a moment, seeing how uncomfortable the older woman had suddenly become. It told her that it was time to change subjects, shift the focus. She had faith Emily would figure things out with their stoic supervisor if they left them alone. So she did the only thing she felt she could do. She locked eyes with both of her friends, lifting the gifts she had for each of them. "So which one of us is going first?

* * *

Emily felt relaxed as she lounged in bubbles, home from her time with JJ and Penelope. It had been a good night, even while they tried to help her figure out her relationship with Hotch. It hadn't done anything to clear things up, but it was nice to spend some time with her friends without the undertones of dead bodies and broken families.

She outright groaned when her cell phone went off, relaxing only slightly when the tone told her it was a text message. Her eyebrow arched upwards when she realized it was from none other than Hotch himself.

_Jack and I are going tree hunting on Saturday. Bring Carrie and Emmeline_.

Was he seriously inviting her to go Christmas tree hunting with him? Two days in advance? These were actual plans, time they were setting aside to spend with each other and the kids that seemed to have pulled them together. Later, she'd wonder if it was the wine pulling out her playful side as she messaged him back.

_Is that an order?_

It didn't take long for the message to come through. _Yes, Agent Prentiss. Consider it an order._

She took a deep breath. She could play it safe, say she already had plans, But not only did the bigger part of her want to say yes, she knew this was still part of that pivotal moment where they both put themselves out there. It was time for Emily to take probably one of the biggest risks she had in her life.

_Then I'm in.

* * *

_

**_As I said to my best friend today, someday before December 25th, I will beat the midnight deadline. If I'm lucky, it'll be tomorrow, espeically since the romance is about to take such a fantastic twist... I'm so excited._**

_**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. It's been a long time since I got such a response for my Christmas story. Its been better than fantastic. You guys are better than fantastic. And I've appreciated all of the ideas you guys have thrown at me. They've helped a lot.**  
_


	19. Intent

**Chapter 19**

_December 19, 2008_

--

"Nah, my money's on Garcia dragging our Morgan here not only onto the dance floor, but under the mistletoe," Dave said, leaning back in his chair.

The males of the BAU team, Reid included, were seated around the table reserved for them at the annual FBI Christmas extravaganza. It was part formal ball, part dinner, part charity auction, always held in some sort of large hotel or conference center. This year was no different. One wall held baskets being raffled off and bid on, while round tables, all numbered and assigned to a team, were scattered about. The tables surrounded a wooden floor set up for dancing once more of the agents in attendance consumed enough alcohol.

"That's not even a bet worth taking," Hotch said. "She manages to do it every year."

"And how am I supposed to know that?" Dave asked with a friendly smile. "I haven't been here for enough time to know the habits of the team."

Hotch had opened his mouth to reply when a pair of hands settled on his shoulders. He stiffened for a split second before vanilla and roses assaulted his senses. That was a smell he knew all too well by now and he really didn't mind allowing Emily Prentiss to get her hands on him.

"Hello, boys," she greeted from above him.

The attention was turned to her and he was suddenly upset that she was behind him.

"Damn girl. I knew you cleaned up nice but... Damn!""

Her laughter rang out from above his head, her hands still in place. "Thanks, I think."

He saw JJ and Garcia make their way around the table. JJ had ended things with Will about a week before, an unfortunate mix between her job and his constant hovering. Hotch had even heard rumours of JJ transferring to make Will happy. He was glad she didn't. He was never sure what they'd do without her. Still, and even with her baby bump, the usually slight blond looked spectacular. Black had been her colour of choice since she'd started to show and this was no different. The dress accented both her bump and the changes in her body. She'd finished the look with delicate earrings and a single, sparkling diamond around her neck. Hotch managed not to react to the way Dave was almost drooling.

"Why Miss Jareau, you look absolutely stunning."

And was that a blush he saw creeping over JJ's face at Dave's words? Was there seriously something in the air? "You do look beautiful, JJ."

"Thank you," the other woman said sincerely, taking the seat Dave held out for her.

"You're not so bad either, Mama," Derek said to Garcia as the other woman took a seat between him and Reid. "You certainly know how to pick a dress."

Garcia's dress was a deep green and, much like JJ"s stunning in its simplicity. "Why thank you, Hot Stuff."

Now all Hotch had to see was the woman still standing behind him. She's absently started digging her fingers into his back – though both his jacket and Oxford shirt – and he was torn between seeing her and keeping her hands on him.

"But we aren't the best part," Garcia said.

It was then he caught his first glimpse of a siren in the flesh. He'd always loved red on Emily, but this took the cake. It was held up by thick spaghetti straps and looked almost like it pinned just short of her left side. But that wasn't the best part. The best part was how it accented her body, her curves, her chest. Her hair was pinned back at the sides, curly, just the way he loved. He was sure stronger men would fall to her spell and he was no saint. She was going to kill him and never even know it.

"You're all beautiful," Reid said, his words awkwardly sincere, even as he gawked at Emily. Hotch wracked his brain for the last time Reid would have seen his colleague in a dress like this. The Viper case, maybe, but she'd been out in a different kind of man-eater dress that night. That had looked damn hot on her too.

But Hotch couldn't take his eyes off of Emily, so much so that it was Dave that pulled her chair out for her, helping to push her in when she was seated.

Her lips twitched upwards. "You're staring," she said quietly.

"I'm trying to find a word better than 'beautiful'," he quipped back, forgetting the team for that split second.

A blush washed over her cheeks. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure."

* * *

It had been a long time since they'd been able to have a night out. It had been even longer since that night out had been all of them, and even longer than that since it had been one that hadn't been for work. Each and every team member was taking advantage of the holiday season to let loose, to joke, kid and Hotch was really enjoying himself. Here he was, at a function made mandatory by Erin Strauss, and he was having the most fun he'd had in a long time. He'd chalk the large majority of that up to the dark-haired woman to his left.

Even now, as the first course came around for their late dinner, he and Emily were sitting as close as they could while still maintaining the look of colleagues. She wrinkled her nose at the cucumbers in her salad. He took them without thought, as he usually did, at the same time JJ all but tossed the older woman her tomato. Food trading was normal around the BAU and it seemed that formal functions made it no different, especially since he'd been picking at the crust of Emily's bread since she pulled out the middle.

"Monks is already hammered," Derek murmured. "We haven't even hit the main course yet."

"Hit the main course, we've barely started," JJ replied, her voice taking on disapproval and warning. "Em..."

Emily sighed. "I know. I'll watch my back."

Hotch's blood pressure jumped. Why would Emily have to watch her back?

"Because Monks tried very hard not only to pinch her ass last year but to get her drunk enough to go home with him," JJ answered.

Hotch hadn't even realized he'd voiced the question aloud. He turned his gaze to Emily. "Did he-"

"Gosh no, that's gross," she replied, eyes widening. "No. Pen, Jayje and I just kept an eye out and an eye on my drinks."

All that did was placate him. It still twisted his gut and heated his insides in anger to know someone had tried to go through that with her. He noticed the glint in Garcia's eyes, even before she opened her mouth.

"And he's not the only one. Seems Miss Prentiss is quite the popular hottie."

He didn't miss Emily's roll of her eyes. "It is way too difficult for a girl to have a night out with her friends these days," she said, shaking her head.

The rest of dinner passed while Hotch tried to calm himself down. He realized the feeling was jealousy, possessiveness, but it didn't seem like there was anything he could think of that would settle the raging going on inside him. How dare any man treat someone as unique and special as Emily Prentiss like a piece of meat! She was so much more than that and it bothered him that she was thought of in such primitive terms, even if it was by a group of highly intoxicated men.

Music started just as dessert was being served and while he wanted nothing more than to drag the beautiful woman on his left onto the floor, the way her eyes lit up when the crepe was set in front of her made him rethink that, if only for the moment. Others, however, seemed drunk enough to continually drop by the table to ask if SSA Prentiss would honour them with a dance.

"Can a girl just eat her dessert around here?" she asked quietly, loud enough only for him to hear.

"Can you blame the men for wanting to dance with you?" he asked with a cheeky smile.

She shot him a glare. "Do not start with me. We are not on the clock tonight."

He chuckled. "Eat your crepe. And try not to shoot anyone tonight."

Emily arched an eyebrow. "You've seen my dress, Hotch. Where am I going to keep a gun?"

There was something he didn't want to think about, especially with the alcohol he'd consumed. Both of his glasses were empty now, and if he wanted to keep himself sane, he would need to keep them that way. Because his mind had drawn up some of the most detailed pictures of where she could keep a gun and he was currently feeling slightly uncomfortable. He was a mixture of upset, jealous and thankful. Getting a reprieve from her was something he seemed to need.

Meanwhile, Dave managed to whisk JJ onto the floor and Hotch smiled at the smile that seemed pasted across both of their faces, the same smile that accompanied Garcia's laughter from the edge of the floor. He took a few minutes to simply watch his team, grinning and laughing when Emily came by the table to grab Reid, shooting him an almost playful glance. Dave joined him not long after, having surrendered JJ to Reid at Emily's insistence.

"You've been sitting here all night," the older man said.

Hotch shot him a knowing glance. "You haven't."

Dave shrugged. "Even when you see it coming a break up can be difficult."

"And you're taking full advantage," Hotch nodded.

"And why aren't you? Most of the people here are too drunk to care."

Hotch sighed. He knew she was as aware as he was that things had changed between them. He'd seen it in her eyes, saw the slight tinge of disappointment mixed with the awareness and confusion in her deep dark eyes when the elevator had arrived after their lunch. Still, now that it had happened, he wasn't fully sure how to proceed.

"There's mistletoe around, drunk agents that won't remember their names come morning, and a woman who is incredibly hot, sexy, beautiful-"

"You don't have to list her attributes to me, Dave," he said, standing and buttoning his jacket. It was time for him to take another step, to push them both just that little bit further, see how she reacted and gauge his next move from there. It helped that she was trying to separate herself from her latest dance partner. Hotch had to hold himself back from charging to her rescue when the man's hands dipped a little too low for his liking. "Mind if I cut in?"

From the look on the man's face, he did mind, but Emily looked so relieved when he swept her into his arms that he didn't care so much. Actually, he didn't care at all.

"Thank you," she said, breathing out a sigh of relief.

"I'm not one to give up an opportunity," he replied, twirling her under his arm.

Her eyes lit up. "And you can actually dance."

"Of course I can," Hotch answered almost indignantly. "My mother raised me right."

"I forget you were raised in a semi-political family."

"Semi?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "We are political."

"It's odd to think that we ran in different circles, but the same game," she said.

To him, it was obvious that the alcohol she'd consumed was still playing a part in her words, but he could also tell she was coherent enough to make decisions. It made him feel better knowing that while her inhibitions were down, she was in complete control of herself. "Until I showed up to run security checks on her people."

"Even then, you were security. We still didn't run in the same circles," Emily said, following him easily.

He marvelled at how easily he found dancing with her. "I should have known you'd be an excellent dancer."

She blushed. "Ballet," she replied.

"You did ballet?" He pulled her close, closer than they had been throughout the song so far. He'd thought her excellent posture came from politics, not from years of strict dance.

"Of course," she replied. "Hated almost every minute of it."

"It's served you well."

"Thank you," she said with a wide smile.

They stopped talking as he complicated the steps slightly and Emily followed along perfectly. She certainly was something. Dave had been right. She was unique, smart, successful, and more than that, she understood that his job was more than just that. His job was who he was, not just what he did and she knew it was important to him. She'd been the one to make the adaptations when his hearing was down. And she could dance, probably better than he could.

They could both tell the song was nearing the end. Hotch felt a little cheated. It hadn't been a full song after all, not even most of one. He moved to step back as the song came to a close, at the same time it smoothly transitioned into the familiar timing of a waltz. He watched her eyes, the way the emotion in them shifted to something a little mischievous.

"Tell me, Agent Hotchner, do you waltz?"

There was a challenge in her eyes he couldn't deny. "Like the best."

And so they were off. Part of him realized she was letting him lead, allowing her body to follow the steps he set out for them. He had no delusions as to ability to lead him had he not done the dance justice. It seemed second nature to him and so it was easy to lead her in twists and turns around the people on the floor. As the song came to a close, his body moved on its own accord, dipping her romantically. He felt Emily's breath catch in her throat from the hand on her back. He straightened her slowly ensuring she had both feet firmly on the ground before reluctantly letting go.

She was red and flushed from exertion, her eyes bright. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and ravage her, plunder her mouth, taste that exposed neck. But they were at a Bureau Christmas party, with agents watching from all angles. He knew he couldn't.

"Drink?" he offered.

"After that? Please," she agreed, taking his offered hand.

They spent the rest of the night pretty much side-by-side, perusing the baskets, chatting politely with other agents and socializing with their own team. Even Strauss stepped by to wish them all happy holidays. For Hotch it really was. He and the rest of the team were on stand down for the week of Christmas, partially of his doing, and partially of Garcia's. With all of the fantastic work they'd done, his team deserved a break.

It wasn't until the end of the evening he asked her how she planned on getting home.

"Cab," she replied. "I wasn't sure if driving would be safe."

"I'll give you a ride," he said as they both made their way to the coat check. They both handed over their tickets and he helped her into her coat after he'd shrugged his on.

"It's out of your way," she argued. "A cab is fine, Hotch."

"It's not," he insisted. "And I'd feel better knowing you got home safe."

"I've gotten myself home safely before," she quipped, but hooked her arm in his offered elbow.

He pulled open the passenger door of his sedan in the hotel's underground parking lot and waited for her to climb in before closing the door and heading around to his side. His radio was tuned to a radio station playing Christmas music which he left playing softly in the background.

"What are your plans for our week off?" she asked quietly, her voice just carrying over the music.

"I get Jack on Sunday," he said. "I'll pick him up Sunday after dinner and I don't have to drop him off with Haley until noon on Christmas day."

Emily smiled softly. "That sounds like a fantastic week for both of you."

"I'm certainly looking forward to it," he replied, skilfully manoeuvring the car through the streets. "We'll decorate a tree, probably go skating... You should bring Carissa and Emmeline and we'll go."

"Skating?" she asked, a little surprised. They were already going tree hunting together tomorrow and he already wanted to make plans with her for the following week.

"Yes," he agreed. "Tuesday?"

With a deep breath, Emily silenced the worrying voices in her head. "Sure, I'll just have to check with Anne."

"You should come anyway," he told her softly.

He caught a glimpse of the shy look on her face when he glanced her way. "I'll think about it."

They both absorbed themselves in the music until he pulled to a stop in front of her building.

"Thank you, Hotch," she said.

He smiled, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't trust you to walk up the front steps in those shoes without slipping on ice," he told her cheekily as he climbed from the car and jogged to her side.

"First of all," she said, accepting the hand he held out to her anyway. "These are by far not the most dangerous pair of shoes I own, and secondly, I made my way to the curb, what makes you think I can't walk up my own front steps?"

"Humour me, Emily," he told her, locking the doors and starting up the walk with her. She greeted the bellman happily as they made it through the front door and went to stand in front of the elevator.

"Well, I think I made it," she told him, pressing the button for the elevator.

"So you did," he agreed, reluctantly letting go of her and stepping away.

"Miss Prentiss?" they heard the bellman call.

"Yes?"

The poor man looked almost embarrassed as he cleared his throat again. "Um... mistletoe, ma'am."

They both looked up. Sure enough, there hung a small sprig of mistletoe. Hotch's face went soft as he leaned in to place a kiss on her cheek, longer than it needed to be. This time he heard her breath catch in her throat as he slowly pulled back. Her pupils had dilated with the touch, so much so that her attraction was obvious.

Looking back on the moment, he'd never be able to tell who initiated that first real kiss, just that she tasted of cinnamon and fruit. Her lips parted at the slightest touch of his tongue and he was offered the chance he'd been hoping for. There was no hesitation in his kiss then, one hand winding around her back to splay across the bottom of her spine as the other threaded itself through her soft curls. Her hands had fisted in the open lapels of his winter coat. He heard the elevator ding its arrival and pulled away reluctantly.

"Good night, Emily," he said, aware that his voice was husky. Her eyes were glazed, her brain obviously not working. So much so that the elevators slid closed while they still stood there. He stepped back from her slowly his hands coming to remove hers from his jacket. She shivered and it seemed to snap her out of the trance he put her in.

"Would you like to come up?"

The surprise that flitted over her face was almost too fast to catch, but he did and smiled softly. "Yes," he admitted. "But no."

She arched an eyebrow. "Well which one is it."

He stepped closer again, effortlessly fitting her hips to his. "I want to, but not tonight."

Her eyes stayed locked on his as her hands cupped his elbows. "Is this your declaration of intent, Hotch?" she asked quietly.

He wanted to kiss her again, but refrained. "Consider it a promise," he said.

Later, he would wonder what strength had helped him pull away from the dynamic woman he could have had right then and there. He walked back to his car, a little extra spring in his step. He had made his intentions clear, and if he had his way, he wanted to prove to her that he was serious. She'd made her own declaration into inviting him upstairs, but he didn't want to rush things.

Emily Prentiss was not a woman one rushed with and he fully planned on taking his time to savour her.

* * *

**_This not only makes up for every short chapter (according to , without this author's note says the chapter is 3,547 words), but every time I was late (I'm 7 hours early from my usual midnight or passed posting!) and every time I pulled back from making them finally take that step foward into a relationship. As a result, I'm really looking forward to your reviews for this baby! I had fun writing it, actually, so I hope you guys really enjoyed it._**


	20. The Hunt is On

**Chapter 20**

_December 20, 2008_

--

"Carissa Jane Harding, stop right there!"

The little girl literally stopped dead in her tracks at her aunt's barking yell.

Emily blew out an exasperated breath. She'd managed to catch Jack before he could take off after her little imp of a niece, but she'd missed Carissa by a hair. Now, with Jack resting against her hip, her ponytail wild from racing after children in the snow, she watched in almost relief as Hotch dropped the saw at her side and went after her niece, easily lifting her to his shoulders. The six-year-old squealed and laughed, though sobered when she saw the look on her aunt's face.

It was how the entire day had been, ever since she and Hotch fixed Jack's car seat into the back of Emily's SUV. Jack and Carissa seemed to find it an endlessly amusing game to push at each other, much to the annoyance of both of the adults. They'd tried to take it in stride, chalking it up to hyper children, but this was Emily's last straw. The handful of snow Carissa had managed to upend over the head of the three-year-old boy was harmless, but it wasn't going to be difficult to lose both children in the mess of trees.

"I'm sorry Auntie Em," Carissa said once they were in earshot.

Emily watched as Hotch put her down, handing Jack to him in the process. Emmeline stood by calmly, the same way she had for the entire trip. She squatted down in front of her niece, pulling both of the girl's hands into her own. "You can't go running off like that, okay?" she said seriously. "It's really easy to lose you in all of these trees and I don't want to do that."

Carissa's head dropped as she realized she wasn't in trouble for dumping snow over Jack's head. "I'm sorry."

"Promise me you won't run off like that again?"

"I promise."

Emily smiled, reassuring the little girl as much as relieving some of the tension. "If you can't see me, I can't see you, so don't go running off so far."

"I promise," Carissa repeated, stronger this time.

"Good." She let go of the little hands, not surprised when she all but raced to Hotch's side, stumbling a bit in the snow. Emily smiled as he easily held his free hand out for her and Carissa latched on. She shivered at the warmth of his eyes when they met hers.

Things had been markedly different, and with good reason, since he'd shown up at her place. He'd greeted her with a wide smile and a slow kiss on the cheek that reminded her of their real kiss only hours before. Emily's face had flushed and her stomach curled with heat. She had both of the girls and herself bundled up for a day in the snow by that point, so their only necessity was to switch cars. They agreed her SUV was the better vehicle to take. They'd gone over a few little ground rules in the car on the way to the tree farm and while all three children had agreed, by the way Carissa had been bouncing in her seat Emily knew they were in for a few stressful moments.

But it was more than that. The way she and Hotch went about removing the children from the car made her mind picture them doing this all the time, just with their own children. She'd almost shaken her head, literally, reminding herself that though they'd both essentially conveyed to each other that it was time to see where their attraction was leading, kids were a long way in the future. She'd felt that familiar warmth spread through her when he took her hand, allowing the children to run free up the large path. It was only when they'd gotten to the smaller paths, actually looking for trees that would fit her condo and his apartment that things had started getting out of hand.

Emily smiled down at Emmeline as she picked up the saw and the ten-year-old grasped her hand. "Having fun?"

Emmeline raised a small eyebrow. "Loads."

The elder woman chuckled. "Did your mom give Carrie sugar cereal this morning?"

"You know Mommy," Emmeline replied. "She would _never_ give us sugar cereal in the morning."

Emily arched an eyebrow.

"It's Mommy's day off and Carrie woke her up early..."

That was all that needed to be said. Carissa had an uncanny ability to get her way, no matter what it was. And Emily knew that Anne preferred to sleep in as best she could on the very few days she had off. There was nothing that could stand up to Carissa's stubbornness when she was hungry. She checked her watch briefly and blew out a sigh. "She'll crash any minute."

And so was Jack if the way his head had just dropped to his father's shoulder was any indication. It was, after all, almost naptime. Emily knew they were close to the back of the tree farm and the thought of trying to get three small children back to the front along with a tree was a terrifying prospect. Still, she drew on the reserves of her patience to follow along behind Hotch. It helped that she could admire his backside through jeans she wasn't even aware he owned.

Suddenly, and much to her surprise, Emmeline stopped dead. So much so that Emily almost tugged the slight girl over. "Emmy?"

"That's it," the ten-year-old said, finger pointing down the rows of trees.

"Hotch!" she called, alerting the man to their destination just as she and Emmeline all but raced down the row of trees together. Sure enough, Emmeline had found the virtually perfect tree. It was fat, but not overly so, full in all the right places and, she hoped, tall enough and short enough at the same time. Hotch, Jack and Carissa caught up to them in short order, Carissa pitching forward from her sudden stop in the snow. Emily helped her up then looked up at her boss.

"Well?"

His eye was critical as it followed the lines of the tree and the intensity of his concentration reminded her of the heated way he'd taken her in the night before. Was everything today going to come back to the Christmas party?

"I like it," he said finally. "It'll fit in your place perfectly."

Emily couldn't stop the flush in her cheeks. Why on earth did he make her blush so often? "It might be better to get one tree. Some of us look a little s-l-e-e-p-y."

His brow wrinkled adorably. "Where are we going to put it?"

"Your place," she said firmly. "You'll have Jack, you deserve the tree. Anne has an artificial one the girls decorated while we were in Bozeman."

--

That seemed like a perfectly logical idea to him as he took in the tree critically again, easily remembering the dimensions of his own home. "It should fit and we should be able to put the angel on top."

He almost staggered backwards at her blinding smile. "Do you want to start or should I?"

The thought of Emily on her back, even if it was with the innocent intention of cutting down a tree, was not something he needed. It was why he'd easily walked ahead of her with Jack and Carissa. Seeing her with children was tugging at his heart, even more so now that he knew he was in the clear. Pursuing her was his new Christmas goal and he knew she wasn't going to put up much of a fight. "I will."

She pursed her lips in that way that told him she didn't much like the idea. "So long as you promise to let me know if you get tired."

He nodded, watching as she lifted Jack into her arms to keep the three-year-old away from his father and the sharp saw. Then he set to work, methodically working the saw into the trunk of the tree. He didn't even have to ask her to hold it from falling over as he came to the end of his job. She was already there, one eye on all three children behind her as he finished and the tree toppled on top of him. He heard her laughter as she managed to get the tree off of him. Even the children were getting a good giggle out of it.

"Funny," he said, pulling himself upright after she took the saw from his grasp.

"Daddy! Tree!"

"Yes sir," Hotch agreed, dropping a hand to his son's head. "We have a tree."

"Now we have to get it back to the front," Emily said with a smile.

And, like perfect timing that never seemed to happen, sleigh bells sounded. Emmeline and Carissa took off down the snowy path to the main road, Jack close on their heels. It left the two of them to drag the tree after the children. It seemed like they had already explained the predicament when Emily and Hotch made it to the end of the row.

"Just tie it up on one of those strings," the elderly man driving the tractor requested. "We'll have you down to the front in twenty minutes."

Gratefully, he and Emily climbed into the wagon, the children arranging themselves around the adults. Eventually, she was pressed against his side, Jack curling into her body while Carissa did the same to Hotch. Why they ended up trading children Hotch would never be able to figure out, but he didn't mind it. Jack fell asleep quickly, not used to going so long on the required high energy necessary to go tree hunting. Carissa wasn't far behind and even Emmeline seemed to be dozing when they reached the front of the farm.

Carissa woke with a whine as the wagon slowed to a stop, but Jack seemed quite content to stay asleep.

"I'll handle the tree," he said quietly, hopping down from the wagon, then accepting a still sleeping Jack. "I saw a sign for hot apple cider. Take the kids, I'll meet you there."

--

Emily wanted to argue, but when he handed Jack back to her and pressed a kiss to her cheek, she felt her resistance melting. They were going to have to have a talk about independence and ability if this was going to work. For now, however, she didn't mind cuddling Jack against her, holding him under his bottom with one arm, while her free hand took Carissa's. Emmeline walked beside her as they made their way to the little clearing, a fire blazing in the middle. A few minutes later, after warning Carissa to be careful and arranging both girls on one of the logs in front of the fire, Emily took a seat, Jack still asleep against her.

"You're brave."

Emily looked over at the woman who had spoken with a polite smile. "Why?"

"Three kids tree hunting? I have a hard enough time keeping track of my nine-year-old son, let alone handling three kids. How old?"

Emily smiled warmly. "Ten, six and three," she replied, shifting Jack slightly. The little imp just moved himself back, whimpering. She let out a sigh.

"Someone else taking care of your tree?"

She nodded with a smile. "You?"

"Someone from the front helped, and thank goodness for that tractor!"

Emily nodded her agreement whole-heartedly. "I know she's going to be out in the car," she said, nodding to the way Carissa was starting to lean against her sister.

"We've got a little bit of a drive ahead of us, so I wanted a break before braving it," the other woman replied. "Nicholas, away from the fire please."

Emily watched the boy come back to his mother. "Are you almost done? We have a tree to decorate!"

Emily laughed at the childish exuberance.

"Soon," his mother promised.

"Emily"

She knew her smile was bright before she turned to seek him out. She glared when Hotch laughed slightly at the position of Jack against her. "Where's the tree?"

"Attached to your car," he replied, lifting Jack easily from her arms as he stood with his back to the fire. "Someone at the front helped me out."

Emily nodded. "I'm glad." There was more than one reason for that. Jack's weight wasn't light and so her arms had been getting a little bit sore. "I'll get you a cup."

"No, Emily its-"

She shushed him with a peck to the cheek. "I want to."

* * *

They agreed to drop Carissa and Emmeline off first so Emily could help him get the tree into his apartment. It took some doing, and they'd had to find some way to keep Jack asleep in the apartment while they wrestled with the tree, but they managed to get it in with only enough hassle to have them both hissing the inappropriate words under their breaths.

Finally, Hotch stood slightly behind her as she admired their work, her hands on her hips. "I like it."

"Me too," he agreed. "Between your decorations and the ones I've bought we should have this tree decorated in no time."

She cocked her head to the side, surprised and confused. "My ornaments?"

"The ones you and Jack made," he answered. "Unless you have your own decorations you'd like to add to the tree."

She chuckled. "No. I don't usually have a tree. I help Anne and the girls decorate theirs. That's enough for me."

"But you missed it," he said, one hand coming to rest against her back.

Emily turned to face him, his hand sliding around so it was wrapped around her. One of her hands came up to rest against his bicep, the other found his other hand. "I did. Sometimes I do."

"Come decorate tomorrow," he said.

She chuckled. "That's a lot of time together, Hotch," she said quietly. She was starting to get nervous. Yes, they'd decided to start moving forward in their relationship, but did that really mean spending at least part of every day together? Not only that, but her mother's big Christmas party was the next night.

"I don't think so," he replied. "I like spending time with you, Emily."

She shivered at the use of her first name. "And I like spending time with you," she assured him. "And that would be a good enough argument, but my mother's Christmas party is tomorrow."

He nodded slowly, disengaging his hand from hers to wrap it around the back of her neck, his fingertips delving into her hair. "So come in the afternoon. You can still make your mother's party."

It was a really, really tempting offer and the way his fingers were lightly massaging her scalp wasn't helping her to make a rational decision. "Hotch-"

But he was already kissing her.

--

He'd never tried this particular form of persuasion before. He'd never been allowed, never thought the opportunity would ever come up. Now, however, he took advantage of it, coaxing her lips open. He thrilled when she pressed herself closer, fitting herself against him her posture mirroring his in the way one arm wrapped around his back and the other plunged into his short hair.

He'd always thought Emily a passionate woman. He'd always fantasized that she'd be the type of woman that would make him hot in a matter of seconds. She'd done it before, by what she wore in the office, by the way she carried herself, by the curls in her hair and she hadn't even known it at the time. Now, with her there, real, dressed down it was so much better, so much more potent.

"Hotch," she murmured, pulling away and tilting her head back to ensure he couldn't catch her lips again.

He simply diverted his attention to the smooth skin of her neck and her ears. "Emily."

"I can't miss my mother's party," she said, her fingers digging into his back.

It was what he needed to continue his torment. "Come. Decorate."

She managed to take him by surprise as she pulled away, putting space between them. "I can't," she repeated. "But, I can come by afterward, if it's not too late."

He knew her, and she wouldn't stay longer than she had to. She'd made it oh so clear she hated politics more than anything else in the world. "Okay." He was really left with no other choice.

She smiled. "I should probably go," she said quietly.

The look in her eyes told him she didn't want to go and he didn't want to let her go, but, with Jack upstairs, he knew it was probably best for both of them. "Call me when you're on your way tomorrow."

"I will," she promised quietly as he walked her to the door. "Say goodbye to Jack for me."

"I will."

They stood, almost awkwardly in the doorway. He reached passed her to open the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She bit her lip before popping up to press a chaste kiss to his lips. "Tomorrow."

* * *

**_Gosh, now that I'm getting into the relationship part of it my chapters are getting longer and longer and longer! And now that I'm off school, I have so much time to write that it's been so much fun... I'm going to be endlessly sad to see this end, methinks. And it will. Sooner than I'd like._**

**_Let me know if you enjoyed this one!_**


	21. Difficult to Comfortable

Chapter 21

December 21, 2008

"It feels like it's so fast," Emily said into the speaker phone of her cell as she applied her makeup. She had her best friends on speaker, after agonizing all morning about her relationship with Hotch.

"Oh please," Penelope said, her own voice sounding slightly too far away. Emily knew she was decorating.

"Come on! Our first kiss was two days ago," Emily said on a sigh.

"Uh huh," JJ agreed. It had been part of the conversation. After all, the girls had to know why Emily was starting to panic in the first place. "Have you slept with him?"

"No," Emily replied adamantly.

"Then I don't see a problem," Penelope agreed. "I don't understand why you're worried."

"Exactly," JJ's triumphant voice rang through Emily's cavernous bathroom. "You like spending time with Jack. You're fantastic with him. I can't comment on your relationship with Hotch because one, it feels twisted, and two, you guys play it closer to the vest than some of the most secretive CIA agents. Fort Knox has nothing on the two of you."

"Thanks, Jayje," Emily said sarcastically as she went about applying eyeshadow.

"It's true," JJ protested. "Dave says he's been different these last few weeks."

"Dave?" Penelope asked, a snicker in her voice.

"Different?"

"Well," JJ continued, "Not with just anyone, Em. With you. Dave saw you guys sharing earphones or something? Not once, but twice, if I remember correctly."

"Just how much time _have_ you been spending with Agent Rossi?" Emily joked, knowing that thought JJ couldn't see her arched eyebrow, the blond would hear it.

"We're not changing the subject here," JJ replied resolutely. "He bought you chocolate, a job reserved for Derek-"

"Who was slightly offended I'll have you know," Penelope interrupted.

JJ didn't miss a beat. "Since then, you guys have been tree hunting, you were glued at the hip at the FBI party, he comes to your little campfire sessions in the conference room and, from what I hear, actually has a sense of humour. Derek's been working for Hotch for what...? Five years?"

"And he says he's never seen Hotch like this. He's never seen the man loosen up in all of the years he's known him," Penelope agreed.

Emily sighed. "We have such a network."

"The Bureau is worse than high school for water cooler gossip," JJ agreed. "Look, we're beating a dead horse here even talking about it. You can't pull out now."

Penelope's hummed agreement came through the phone. "It's good for you. And from what I hear it's good for him too."

Emily sighed again, picking up her cell phone as she made her way back to her bedroom and the dress that was waiting for her. It was much more modest than what she'd worn to the FBI party. The neckline was a square cut, with elbow-length sleeves. The entirety of the dress was black, her colour of choice to functions such as this, and cut off at her knees. It was form-fitting, but not tight.

"Do I take a change of clothes?" she asked, setting the phone on her dresser as she grabbed her dress off the hangar.

"Are you going to want to wear that dress while you're over there with Jack?" Penelope replied.

"Excellent point," Emily conceded. "I have to go."

"Me too," JJ agreed. "Dave's making me dinner."

"Can we earmark that conversation for another time?" Penelope all but begged. "Because that man had doted on you since you and Will called it quits."

"Consider it earmarked," Emily said before JJ could speak to the contrary. "Wish me luck."

"With Hotch or the party?" JJ inquired.

Emily bit her bottom lip. "Both."

"Daddy?"

"Yes Jack?"

The little boy bit his lip as he looked up at his father from where he was hanging one of his homemade ornaments on the tree. "Is Em'ly coming for Christmas?"

Hotch looked down at his son in surprise. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "We're going to have to ask her."

"Can we?"

It was official. His son had a crush on the same woman he was quickly falling for. "It wouldn't hurt," he conceded.

"She has to say 'yes'," the three-year-old said.

Privately, he very much agreed with his son. He knew Emily spent Christmas by herself, though she always said she had plans on Christmas Eve. Hotch had a feeling it was Anne and her nieces.

"But then I have to give her a present!"

Jack sounded almost distraught at the thought of not having anything for the raven-haired woman and it made Hotch smile. At least until he realized that he had nothing for her either. Then he frowned. "I'm sure we can find something."

"Daddy! Christmas is soon! I only have three more chocolates left!"

"We still have time," he reassured his son. "We'll go shopping tomorrow, okay?"

Jack seemed placated. "Okay. But what are we going to get!"

Now Hotch just wanted to laugh. It seemed that finding the perfect present for Emily was now topmost in his son's mind. His own gut was twisting as his mind whirled. What was he supposed to get this woman? "We'll figure that out. Now hang those last few decorations, then it's bathtime."

He ended up chasing his son to the bathroom and left him giggling and playing in the tub when he heard his cell phone ring from the living room. He grumbled slightly as he made his way down the hall. They weren't even on duty for goodness sakes. "Hotchner."

"I have made my necessary appearance."

He smiled unconsciously at her voice. "You're on your way?"

"I am."

He checked the clock on his oven. "It's 8:30."

"I didn't stay for dessert."

He could almost hear her blush through her phone. "I'm sure we can find something here."

The hum she made heated his insides. "I'll be there shortly."

With her ready bag over her shoulder, Emily knocked on the door to Hotch's apartment feeling the tension leaking out of her shoulders. The time with her mother had inched by probably because she was looking forward to this more than the party. She was a girl who much preferred movies at home to fancy dining. She burst out laughing when Hotch pulled open the door, spotted with water. "Bathtime?"

His smile was relaxed and boyish. "It is," he agreed. "Though I'm not sure if Jack is actually clean."

"Em'ly!"

She almost toppled back on her heels but managed to catch her balance before toppling backwards. "Jack! Where does he get all of this energy?" she asked stepping in the front hall. He took her bag as she slipped off her shoes, sighing as her arches relaxed. Then she lifted Jack.

"You're pretty," Jack said, one of his little hands tugging at her curls.

"I had to go to a party," she replied. "I brought a change of clothes."

"Jack, let's let Emily get changed, okay?" Hotch said.

Jack went willingly to the floor. "Then can you read me a story?"

Emily had known from day one that Jack Hotchner could get her to do anything he asked. "Of course," she answered willingly, taking her bag back from Hotch.

"Back room or the bathroom, it's your choice," he said.

She wisely decided on the bathroom. As tempting as it was to see Hotch's bedroom, that was a little too intimate for the fact that they'd barely started dating. Minutes later she was in lounge pants and a long-sleeved tee, comfortable and presentable. And she'd washed off her makeup. Feeling more like a human now, as opposed to an overdone doll, she carefully placed her dress in her bag along with her heels and assorted other odds and ends and made her way to Jack's room.

She stood in the doorway, just watching for a few minutes as Hotch read from a thin story book, Jack piping up to comment every once in a while or ask a question. Emily smiled. She was already getting used to all of this, to Jack, to Hotch, to joking and laughing with him. They were friends before and while they hadn't been the closest of colleagues – Emily was definitely closer to Derek – that only added to the allure of the relationship.

Much to her surprise, Jack was asleep before the end of the book. Hotch tucked him in, ensuring that his stuffed dinosaur was tucked right beside him. He met and held her eyes as he stepped towards her. She took his outstretched hand and followed him to the living room. He pulled her onto the couch and she moved willingly against him. Her body relaxed completely then.

"How was it?"

Why was it so easy to forget they'd only been dating for two days? Because it was ridiculous in her mind that only three days ago she'd been pulling away. Now, she willingly cuddled closer, almost purring as his hand tugged through her curls.

"Terrible," she responded. "Boring. I hate playing politics."

--

He knew that. She'd made it very clear early on in her days with the BAU. He pressed a kiss to her head, turning slightly so his free hand wrapped around her opposite thigh. He'd known she was standing in the doorway while he read to Jack and had pretty much assumed Jack would fall asleep before Emily had a chance to read to him. He wasn't all that against it, really because as much as he liked seeing her with his son, he wanted her to himself. "I'm sorry."

She breathed out heavily as her head fell to his shoulder. "Hotch, we need to-"

"Talk," he agreed.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what, sweetheart?"

He thrilled at the shiver that passed through her. "I want this to be easy..."

"Relationships aren't easy," he replied, pulling her closer.

"Is that what we're doing?" she asked quietly, vulnerably.

He knew she valued honesty and he wasn't going to give her anything less. "It's what I want," he said honestly.

She lifted her head, kissing him softly. But he held on, angling her head with the hand that had woven into her hair. He turned her so she was straddling his lap, his arms wrapping around her tightly to make sure she couldn't move. Emily didn't seem to mind. In fact, she seemed as willing to postpone or forget the conversation as he was. However, he wanted to make something perfectly clear so he reluctantly pulled away.

"I want to try, Emily. I want to make this more than a Christmas thing. We are going to finish that conversation when we're not both exhausted and after Christmas."

"After Christmas?"

He kissed her again, delving into her warmth, distracting her completely with hands, lips and tongue. "I have things I'd rather do than discuss the details."


	22. Is it too Fast

**Chapter 22**

_December 22, 2008_

--

"Daddy, why you sleeping on the couch?"

Hotch opened his eyes in confusion, blinking away the fog that had gathered. Sure enough, he had fallen asleep on the couch, but with a companion.

"And why is Em'ly sleeping on the couch. Did you have a sleepover?"

Hotch noticed his son's voice had quieted down when he saw Emily curled up with him, her head still tucked into his chest. They'd moved during their make-out session the night before so he was sprawled across the expanse of the couch, while she found a home on his chest. "We fell asleep," he told his son, his hand rising to comb through her dark hair.

Jack wrinkled his nose. "Does that mean you had a sleepover or not?"

"Something like that," Hotch replied with a soft smile. It took some doing, but he knew Emily was a deep sleeper, so he slowly, gently and carefully shifted until he could pick her up in his arms. He'd let her sleep. It was the holidays, after all. He could hear Jack's little footsteps following him down the hall.

"Daddy, what are you doing?"

Now Jack was talking in a loud whisper. "I'm going to tuck Emily into bed," he responded just as quietly. Since his door was already open, it was easy to manoeuvre himself and his burden through to the bed. "Can you pull back the blankets, Jack?"

The little boy did as asked. "Is Em'ly okay?"

"She's fine," Hotch promised, settling her on the mattress and pulling the blankets up around her shoulders. Emily whimpered and turned but stayed asleep, burying her nose in his pillow.

"Wait!" Jack exclaimed, managing to keep his voice down. He raced out of the room returning seconds later with his own stuffed dinosaur. He managed to climb up on the bed with ease – now Hotch knew how he managed to get on the bed to bounce on him and wake him up in the morning – and crawled carefully across the blankets. He put the animal beside her.

Hotch came around the bed to lift his son into his arms. "Let's leave her sleep." Setting his son down as he entered the kitchen, Hotch went about grabbing pans and food ingredients.

"Whatcha making?" Jack asked, pulling the little stool Hotch kept close by to the counter.

"What do you think?" Hotch replied. "Eggs?"

Jack hummed in thought before shaking his head. "No."

"Pancakes?"

Jack shook his head again. "No."

"French toast?"

"Yeah! Can I help?"

"Not this time, Buddy," Hotch said, ruffling his son's hair. "Go play. I'll let you know when breakfast is ready and we can wake Emily, okay?"

"Okay!" Jack agreed, scrambling down from the chair and racing out of the room.

Hotch took the time he spent cooking to think. Cooking was a rare luxury, though he did enjoy it, and it often acted as a mind-clearing tool. It was too bad he couldn't use it on cases. Nevertheless, he could use it to plan out his strategy on how to approach Emily. She'd seemed so small and vulnerable as she bought up the state of their relationship the previous night and he _hated_ seeing her like that. He knew it wasn't his fault, but the fault of the situation that had her on edge.

She had reason to be concerned about their relationship. If anyone was going to get slammed with the reaction of the Bureau, it was going to be her. She was the subordinate, she was the one who had already been accused of using her connections to get what she wanted in the Bureau. But more importantly, she was the woman, and though he liked to believe things were shifting, he knew she would bear the brunt of the rumours. He would be congratulated for melting the ice queen, the stoic, drop dead gorgeous agent who had turned down so many other men.

He shivered at that thought. Why had Emily turned down so many of the younger agents that had asked her to dinner? She'd had prospects from white collar to organized crime to cyber crimes as they floated through the building. Trainees and administration alike had vied for her attention, but he knew, both from overhearing conversations and in casual conversation with Dave, that they rarely lasted more than two or three dates. Eventually, the excuse became her schedule and her romances ended.

Yet here they were, so close to Christmas, having spent time together both in the office and out of it. He'd discovered things about Emily Prentiss that he liked to believe very few knew. Like her nieces. He knew for a fact that next to no one knew about the Harding family. Or her shutterbug tendencies. Or how incredibly into Christmas she really was. She toned it down in the office, but there had been times in the break room and after briefings that he'd heard her humming Christmas carols under her breath. Her art talent was extraordinary and though he'd only seen it in the crafts she'd done with Jack, Carissa had let slip that Emmeline and Emily often found interesting places to sketch. He'd meant to ask Emily about it, but it hadn't ever seemed like the right time.

By the time his mind had processed everything, making some decisions and leaving some answers yet to be discovered, he'd realized he'd made an entire loaf of French toast and had them warming beside the bacon he'd fried up in the oven. So he made his way down the hall, poking his head into Jack's room. His son, however, was nowhere to be found.

"Jack?"

He wasn't in the bathroom, and Hotch hadn't seen or heard him in the living room, so it left one more place. Sure enough, Jack was on the floor at the foot of his large bed, toys that he'd obviously taken from his room to play with. "There you are."

"Hiya, Daddy!"

"What are you doing?"

"Playing," Jack answered innocently. "Is it time to wake Em'ly up?"

"It is," Hotch agreed. He watched again, as Jack made quick work of climbing onto the bed and didn't bother to be careful as he bounced across the mattress.

"Em'ly! It's morning!"

She'd burrowed her head almost beneath his pillow, so only a mass of dark curls showed above the comforter. He chuckled as she groaned and tried to pull the blankets even more over her head. He heard her mumble something incoherent as Jack giggled. Then the little imp went even further. Pulling back the blankets on the other end of the bed, Jack shuffled under them and Hotch watched the little bump that was his body, crawl under the sheets to Emily's side. He just hoped his son didn't scare her. His answer came a few moments later when Jack squealed loudly before the little bump that was him merged with the lump that was Emily. He smiled as one lump wiggled and could only come to the conclusion that Emily was tickling Jack.

"Come on," he called, laughter in his voice. "Breakfast will get cold."

That got Jack out of the blankets fast, leaving Emily still reclined against the pillows. He had to draw on endless wells of will power to keep his feet from moving at all. "Good morning."

"What happened?" she asked, her voice rough from sleep.

It made him shiver again. "We fell asleep."

"Here?" she inquired. "I don't remember moving from the couch."

"On the couch," he replied, finally unable to keep from moving towards her any longer. She sat up as he found a spot on the edge of the mattress. "Jack woke me up."

"And you moved me here," she surmised.

"Even insomniacs need to sleep sometime."

She blushed. "And you made me breakfast."

"Well, I wasn't about to just send you home on an empty stomach. Who knows how much you ate last night."

"I do hate formal functions for that," she agreed. "One in every twenty has good food."

"And last night wasn't one of them?" He moved out of her way as she stood.

"No, it really wasn't," she agreed, coming to stand right in front of him.

He reached out first, aware that she was still unstable and unsure of where their relationship was going. His finger tucked under her chin, tilting her head so his mouth could meet hers. He didn't care about her morning breath and breakfast came secondary to kissing her good morning. She responded willingly, her arms coming around his waist to wrap around his back.

"Mmm, now that's a good way to wake up."

He chuckled as her eyes widened and her hand came up to clap over her mouth. Apparently the filter between her brain and her mouth hadn't kicked in yet. "I liked it."

Her smile was soft and she still looked sleep-rumpled. All he wanted to do was throw her back on the bed, just for a little bit, but he knew Jack was in the kitchen.

"Just let me find a hair elastic or a brush and I'll be there," she reassured him.

He kissed her forehead and her cheek. "Don't be long. Jack's favourite breakfast is French toast."

"French toast?" Emily said on a moan that had him seriously reconsidering his previous decision to not throw her down on the bed and have his wicked way with her. "That's my favourite."

"I thought breakfast was your favourite."

She arched an elegant eyebrow. "Last time I checked, French toast was a breakfast food."

He grinned. "Touché."

--

Emily was thankful for the little reprieve the bathroom gave her. She had both her brush and a hair elastic and though it was extremely easy to pull her hair up in to a very neat ponytail without a brush, she took the opportunity to just breathe. It had been horribly disconcerting to wake up to Jack's little face beneath the covers. She'd been having a rather... nice dream.... that had her absolutely surrounded by Hotch's smell, at least until Jack's voice invaded her consciousness. It was in the middle of tickling Jack that she realized she wasn't at home and she was indeed surrounded by Hotch's scent. She was in his bed. And that had sparked a new reaction.

Then to find out she'd stayed the night, even if was innocently on his couch, had her brain running too fast for her liking. If she'd been worried about things moving too fast yesterday, it was a little late to care now. And he'd even made her breakfast. But she was still nervous, still largely unsure of what was going on. She trusted him, trusted that he wanted a relationship with her, but wondered if he'd really thought it all through. She wondered if he knew the position he was putting them both in. Though Milwaukee had been over a year ago, she was reluctant to bring any of Strauss' attention to the team. They'd almost lost two agents in one day and she didn't want to be responsible for the possibility of it happening again.

But he was difficult to resist, especially when he was dangling what she wanted in front of her. She'd pretty much contented herself with her fantasies, assuming it would never actually happen. So when it had, when the opportunity had been pressed against her – for she had had a feeling that there were alternative motives than body heat in Montana – she hadn't really believed it. Even now, her lips still slightly swollen from his kiss, she wasn't sure it was real. And he'd told her he wanted it to be.

With a deep breath, she shook her head. This could wait. Right now, there was an adorable boy and a handsome man waiting for her with breakfast on the table. So she made her way down the short hall to the kitchen, smiling reassuringly at Hotch as she ruffled Jack's hair. He looked concerned, probably at how long she'd spent in the bathroom, but she'd needed that time to regroup.

"Any plans today?" he asked her when they were all settled around the table.

"Gingerbread with the girls," Emily replied. "Their favourite tradition. And a sleepover."

"They're sleeping over?" Hotch asked in surprise.

She nodded. "Mmhmm. Annual tradition." She tilted her head to the side, considering a moment. While it would be nice to have a break from him, she'd stuffed that part down into a box to be considered at a later date. So she turned to Jack. "What do you think?" she asked him. "Want to bake cookies?"

"Cookies!" Jack agreed.

Hotch looked torn between surprise and pleasure. She knew it had everything to do with the anxiety and vulnerability she'd shown the night before. She didn't blame him. "So? My apartment around four?"

It seemed that was the invitation he was waiting for. He grinned, his dimples showing. "Sounds fantastic."

* * *

Her apartment smelled like gingerbread. She smelled like gingerbread but he didn't care either way. What he cared about at that particular moment was the soft moan she was making as he had her pressed against her refrigerator. All three children were asleep, Carissa and Emmeline in the guest bedroom and Jack on Emily's bed, having been exhausted from baking, decorating and _Finding Nemo_. It was the first spare second they'd had to clean up and instead, he had her effectively pinned with cool steel at the back and his heat at her front.

Not that she was complaining.

He was taking advantage of the time he had. He'd always found her irresistible but had managed to hold back for her sake and his sanity. Now, however, he had the right as the man pursuing her. And before either of them had the chance to think or talk their way out of whatever was building between them, he fully intended on taking full advantage of his right. The fact that her hands had slipped under the t-shirt and sweater he wore drove him on.

"Hotch," she groaned out. "We need to-" She cut herself off with a gasp. "Oh!"

"What? What do we need to do?" he asked, his hands trailing slowly up her sides, alluring, tempting.

She reacted, arching into him. "We need to stop," she managed. "Jack, kids..." She kissed him, cutting herself off in the process.

But he didn't want to push and willingly slowed his kisses down. His hands slowed, coming to rest on her hips. "We need to stop," he agreed. Slowing down was more of a task than he'd expected but eventually they got back to cleaning the kitchen. He could tell something was up with her by the way she bit at her cheek. Still, she didn't say a word. He left it alone, hoping that in time she would just say it. He just hadn't expected it to be while they were washing the last mixing bowl.

"Are we moving too fast?"

He almost started at the question but managed to maintain his composure. "I don't know," he told her honestly.

She blew out a breath. "Neither do I."

He took the bowl out of her hands and left it on the drying rack, leaning his hip against the counter so he could face her. "What do you think, Emily?"

"I don't know," she repeated quietly. "Sometimes... Sometimes I think we are. We haven't talked about this. I don't want to talk about this."

"But we are," he said, tucking a short stray strand of hair behind her ear."We need to."

"We weren't going to," she pointed out.

He nodded. "Emily, you have to know that I'm going to put my all in this. I can't not."

--

Of course she knew that. Hotch was an intense person who couldn't do anything but put his all into everything he did. He focused on things he felt were important to him and it was an intensity that shook her. It was a scary thought to consider all of that attention focused on her. She had no choice but to believe that he was telling me the truth.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means I want to try a relationship with you," he told her. "I want dates, I want mornings, I want time with you and Jack. I don't know when it happened, I'm not even sure why or how... I can't answer questions like that. I can't answer most of your questions except we have chemistry and I'm sick of fighting it. I don't know what else I can say."

She felt herself sniffling against her will. "That was pretty good."

"Thank you," he said with a smile. He kissed her forehead. "We can take our time. We can go at your pace."

"Our pace," she said, leaning up and kissing him quickly and softly. "I trust you."

And for now, it was enough.

* * *

**_I braved a shopping mall today because my Christmas shopping wasn't done and that's why this is late. I didn't have as much time as I'd have liked to write this and because I got distracted the end feels a little disconnected. _**

**_3 more chapters..._**


	23. All Time Favourite Christmas

**Chapter 23**

_December 23, 2008_

--

"Mister Hotch?"

Hotch looked up from where he was helping Emmeline re-tie her skates with a wide smile. "Yes Emmeline?"

The ten-year-old bit her lip. "You've been spending a lot of time with Auntie Emily."

"I have," he agreed. "Is that okay?"

Emmeline took a deep breath. "Only if you promise not to leave her."

Emily hadn't told him anything about Emmeline and Carissa's upbringing, and he'd never had the chance to meet Anne, so everything he'd figured out had been from his own experience and the behaviour of both girls. Carissa seemed well adjusted, and Hotch assumed that was because her father must have walked out before Carissa could remember. Emmeline, on the other hand, remembered and felt the loss.

"I don't plan on it," he promised the little girl. "I'll be here as long as she wants me."

Emmeline nodded. "I hear her talking about you with Mommy," she admitted. "They think I'm asleep, but I'm not."

"What do they say?" He couldn't help but let the curiosity overwhelm him. He wanted to know. He really wanted to know.

"That Auntie Em really likes you," Emmeline replied. "Mommy's been trying to convince her to um... I forget what words they used, but I know Aunty Em wanted to say yes. She said something about the Bureau though."

Hotch nodded. That was his biggest apprehension, more because of the subordinate-supervisor labels than anything else. It was nice to know he got the best friend seal of approval anyway, even though he'd never met the woman. "Is that all?"

"Why are you asking, Mister Hotch?" Emmeline asked, her head tilting to the side.

Hotch had learned early on that Emmeline, like her aunt, valued honesty above every other virtue. So he met her eyes, head on. "I like your aunt, Emmeline. Very much. It's why I'm spending so much time with her."

The little girl looked like she was absorbing that information. "My Aunty Em is special," she said, as much warning as she could put into her ten-year-old voice.

"She is," he agreed, a smile tilting his lips as he looked over his shoulder. The woman in question was smiling as she held onto Jack's hands, Carissa standing nearby with a contraption to help her balance as she learned to skate. "Very special."

"Exactly. You have to be careful with her though. She's not as strong as she acts."

Hotch knew that too. She didn't show struggle often, but as they had become friends following New York, it had been a little bit easier to notice when she was. And it wasn't often to begin with. "I don't want to hurt her."

"Everybody says that. Then they walk away."

"Emmeline, I really do not want to hurt your aunt. I have no intention of hurting your aunt, but sometimes things happen," her told her frankly.

"And then you'll go away."

"Not necessarily," Hotch tried to reassure her, pulling away and making sure she wasn't too wobbly when she stood on the blades of her skates. Then he crouched down. "Things can get hard sometimes, but that doesn't mean people don't work things out. Some people do, some people don't."

His point had been to reassure her that he intended to work things out with Emily should a fight occur. It was bound to, both because of their line of work and because she had little quirks that drove him nuts. She could be reckless at times and it bothered him that she could put herself in the line of fire as easily as Morgan would when a life was on the line. The fierce loyalty was both a good trait and a fault too.

"Daddy! Look at me!"

He smiled at his son and yelled encouragement before stepping onto the ice and holding his hand out to Emmeline. He thrilled when she took it.

* * *

"Emmeline's starting to trust you."

Her voice was soft as they sat watching the three children run about the lobby. Hot chocolate had to come after skating, but neither of them had felt particularly obliged to keep Emmeline, Carissa and Jack at the table.

He nodded his agreement. "We came to an understanding."

"On the side of the ice rink?" she asked with a chuckle. "Odd place to bond."

"She needed her skates tightened."

"Mmhmm, then she skated four laps with you. She doesn't take to people well."

"I noticed that," he agreed. "She all but made me swore in blood not to leave you alone."

Emily blushed. "She would do something like that. She's protective of me."

"I'm glad she is," Hotch replied, sipping at Jack's unfinished hot chocolate. The boy would never miss it. He waited a beat. "I don't plan to leave, you know. Unless you'd like me to."

"Right now, I'm not sure what I want," she admitted. "Do I want you, yes. Do I want the drama that could erupt because of this, no."

Hotch's arm wrapped around her, bringing her flush with his side as his hand curved around her opposite hip. "What people don't know can't hurt them."

"You want to hide this?"

He had to back pedal fast. "No," he told her, honesty shining in his eyes as they met hers. "Not at all. If we're going to start a relationship, Emily, you are not going to be my dirty little secret. At least not to the people that matter."

"The team."

Though it was a statement he nodded anyway, pressing a reassuring kiss to her temple. "What the Bureau doesn't know, won't hurt anyone. The team is family."

She turned slightly, her knee knocking his so she could face him better. "Speaking of the team..."

"I will be at Morgan's house tomorrow night with Jack."

She tilted her head to the side. "How did you know that was what I was going to ask?"

He smiled, a true, genuine dimpled grin. "Because I know you Emily Prentiss." His eyes flashed when she shivered. "Would you like me to pick you up on the way?"

"How be I come by your place and we drive from there instead?" she proposed.

It was an odd request, but so long as she was driving with him he wasn't sure it mattered whether he was picking her up or if she was driving herself to his complex. "Okay," he agreed.

She smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You know, I think this is starting to become my all time favourite Christmas."

It was growing to be his too.

* * *

**_This is short 1) because it is hours late, 2) because I'm exhausted from traveling through the endless snow that seems to be pllaguing me and 3) because this one gave me so much trouble as a result of having tomorrow's (or today's?) pretty much planned out in my head. _**

**_Tomorrow is Christmas Eve! I get to watch The Grinch (cartoon version, thankyouverymuch) and Scrooged!_**


	24. I'll Stay

**Chapter 24**

_December 24, 2008_

**_Christmas Eve_**

--

Emily grinned as she lifted Jack into her arms and out of his car seat in Derek's driveway. They'd agreed that his house was the best choice, well, because he had one. Jack hd been required to come because he was spending time with his father. Emily didn't mind. It had been great to climb into the car with both of the Hotchner men to make the drive to Derek's.

"Christmas!" Jack exclaimed into her ear.

Emily laughed. "Almost," she replied.

Meanwhile, Hotch had pulled the presents from the back of the car. He came around the car, smiling at her widely. "Ready?"

They'd made the decision to not say anything, but not deny it either. They wouldn't act any different than they had been and part of Emily even believed that he would put them into situations that would be sharing their relationship status with the rest of the team. She couldn't say she was particularly against that idea. She followed him up Derek's surprisingly well-manicured and freshly shovelled front walk. Hotch knocked on the door.

"Merry Christmas!" Penelope exclaimed as she threw open the door.

Emily smiled at one of her best friends, easily leaning around Jack to exchange a kiss on the cheek with her. "Merry Christmas to you too, Pen."

"Here, sir, let me take some of those."

Emily almost laughed.

"Garcia, we're not on the clock. Hotch is fine."

"Hotch! Oh, hey Em."

Emily did laugh at the surprised look on Derek's face. He'd seen her with Jack in the office, but it was the first time he'd seen her with Hotch and Jack. She put the little boy down to help him get out of his winter clothes and his boots, handing them to Penelope who held out her hand.

"Mama, you're not hostess here."

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it, my vision," Penelope waved him off. "I don't mind."

"I do," he replied taking Emily and Hotch's coat from both adults. "We're in the living room. Em?"

"Got it," she replied, lifting the three-year-old again as Jack held up his arms. She led the way through a quaint kitchen to Derek's living room, grinning at JJ on the way by. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," JJ replied mirroring her friend's grin. "Kitchen duty."

"I see that."

"She shouldn't be," came Dave's voice from the nearby living room. "She should be sitting. Resting."

Emily arched an eyebrow at JJ, passing Jack off to Hotch to join her friend in the kitchen. "Are you stressed?"

"Not at all," JJ replied. "He's been overprotective since Will and I broke up."

"Any particular reason?"

The blond rolled her eyes, stepping away from the potatoes and allowing Emily to take over. "No. He says I need to take it easy because I'm pregnant."

"You're six months in."

"I know!" JJ agreed, exasperation tingeing her voice. "And yet, I haven't been allowed to do _anything_ by myself."

Emily raised an eyebrow. "And you're chalking that up to the fact that he's being overprotective while you're pregnant?" she asked, voice dropping.

"Well, what else could it be?" JJ all but hissed back.

"I've spent every day since December 1st with Hotch," Emily revealed to her friend. "And, well…"

"You guys finally got your heads out of your butts and decided to see where the attraction leads?"

"About time."

Emily hadn't even realized Penelope had returned.

"We wondered," JJ admitted. "At the party, when you guys were inseparable. We wondered if you guys had taken that next step."

"We hadn't," Emily admitted. "Not really, anyway. We kissed for the first time that night."

"You told us," Penelope reminded her. "So?"

"So… I went over to his apartment after my mom's thing on Sunday. Ended up falling asleep."

"Falling asleep?" JJ gasped.

"On the couch. He moved me to his bed in the morning."

Penelope cocked her head to the side. "Do you get along with Jack?""

--

"Fabulously," Hotch answered Dave's question, keeping the corner of his eye on said child. The three-year-old seemed quite content with the backpack of toys he and Emily had packed for him. With his input, of course.

"Well of course she does," Derek said, leaning back against the recliner he was in. "Em was made to be a mother."

"She has two nieces," Hotch agreed. "She's natural at it."

"Seems like everything's working out," Dave replied, nodding slowly. "I don't know if you have anything to worry about right now."

"Other than our jobs," Hotch returned, breathing out a sigh. "The Bureau could destroy us."

"I doubt it," Dave said, meeting Hotch's gaze.

"We both live for our jobs. I wouldn't ask her to leave because of a relationship," Hotch replied. "I couldn't do that to her."

"You wouldn't have to ask," Derek pointed out. "By the time you talked about it she'd have already done it."

"I know," Hotch agreed.

"I don't mean metaphorically, either," Derek clarified. "She'd do it for _you_, Hotch. Anyone else, there would probably be a conversation over who would be better off to stay in the Bureau. For you, she'd just do it. She's done it before."

Dave arched an eyebrow. "She has?"

"Right after my suspension," Hotch said, talking quietly, eyes glazing over. "She was going to take the exams for the state department."

"She'd be bored out of her mind at the state department," Dave retorted, his face showing his distaste. "A waste of her mind."

"That's what I thought. I went to her apartment to talk her back into working for the BAU."

Both of Dave's eyebrows went up. "You talked her back into it?"

"I had to," Hotch replied. "I wasn't just going to let a brain like hers walk away."

"You were already in love with her," Dave accused, leaning forward in his seat.

--

"I was not," Emily contradicted, realizing after it was too late that all of the telling signs of a lie were on her face.

"Of course you were. We've all known this was coming, even when he was so cold to you. Even Gideon thought it was just a defence mechanism and who knows Hotch better than Gideon?"

"I didn't know Gideon had noticed," Emily admitted. "It was that obvious?"

"The attraction was. We weren't sure anything was going to come of it until New York and the way you guys changed after that," Penelope admitted.

"And now…: JJ shrugged. "Seems everything is working out for the better."

And despite her reservations, Emily couldn't agree more.

* * *

Dinner had been a fabulous affair. It had been one of the happiest Christmas dinners Emily could remember and she'd had some great ones with Anne, Emmeline and Carissa. Now, fully, content, having unwrapped presents and back in the passenger's seat of Hotch's car, Emily could honestly admit she was content.

And the whole team knew about her relationship with Hotch now. They'd been caught under mistletoe in Derek's basement. He'd decided to set the tree up there instead of in the living room because there was more room in the beautiful basement. However, she and Hotch – who had pretty much been acting like a married couple as it was – had chosen a couch right under a sprig of mistletoe. Emily blushed as she remembered Hotch's kiss, only slightly restrained for their audience.

She looked over at Hotch with a smile when he reached out and grasped her hand. "Stay tonight."

Emily raised an eyebrow at the same time her heart stopped in surprise. "I'm sorry?"

"Stay with Jack and I tonight. You can celebrate Christmas with us."

"I usually celebrate it with Carissa and Emmeline," Emily admitted.

"Do you have plans for tomorrow morning?" he asked.

"No," she replied.

"Then stay and watch Jack open presents with me. I'll make you breakfast."

Part of Emily was still apprehensive. The last time she'd stayed over it had simply been a mistake. This would be deliberate on her part.

"Nothing scandalous," Hotch promised. "Just sleep."

His bed was really comfortable. And she'd be getting breakfast out of it and the chance to spend the day with people that matter instead of people on her own. "Hotch…"

"Come on, Emily," he said, pulling out the puppy dog eyes as they stopped at a red light. "Stay."

She blew out a breath. "Promise no funny stuff?"

"No funny stuff," he reassured her. "I want to fall asleep with you."

Her stomach flipped at how domestic that sounded. "Okay," she agreed.

His dimples came out with the wide force of his grin.

"Yes," she said again, nodding now. "I'll stay."


	25. For the Better

**Chapter 25**

_December 25, 2008_

--

It was the third time Hotch had woken with her in his arms. Well, almost, anyway. The first time Emily had only technically been in his arms when he'd woken. When he'd actually allowed her to believe he was awake, she was already out of the room. This was, however, the first time they'd both been woken by his son.

"Wake up! Wake up! It's Christmas!"

He chuckled at Emily's groan then had to dodge her arm. He caught it, tucking it back under the covers. "I'll put coffee on," he promised, kissing her temple. He left his son and the woman he was rapidly falling in love with in his large bed, padding out to the kitchen. He filled Jack's sippy cup with juice after starting the coffee maker. He smiled, almost whistling in happiness.

This was something he hadn't fully anticipated, but had hoped for. He had been a good boy the night before, simply wrapping his arms about her as she cuddled close to her side. Who would have known that the strong, independent Agent Prentiss was a snuggler? He loved that he knew such an intimate thing about her. They'd fallen asleep quickly and easily after tucking Jack in, exactly how he'd hoped it would go. For Hotch had planned on asking her at the very least over for Christmas morning since he'd woken on the couch with her. And even if he couldn't get Christmas morning, he had planned on seeing her regardless.

He'd actually prepared for the inevitability and the possibility of her spending the night with him. Stockings were his favourite part of Christmas, and though he didn't have one of his own – it wasn't as much fun to pack one's own stocking – he adored watching Jack open a handful of little things. Since it was such an important tradition for him and she'd been open with sharing all of hers, he'd wanted to share one of his. So he'd packed her a stocking, just a bunch of cute little dollar store finds. Emily wasn't as high maintenance as her upbringing would have supposed.

Jack came scampering into the kitchen. "Presents yet, Daddy?"

"Soon," Hotch promised. "Why don't you grab your stocking?"

"But Daddy, which one is mine?" he asked, his little brow wrinkling in confusion. "There's two."

"The green one," Hotch answered. "But bring the red one too. That's for Emily."

"Em'ly gets ta open a stocking?" Jack asked, eyes wide and excited. "Yay!"

Hotch laughed. "Go get the stockings, I'll bring coffee and juice and we'll open them in bed, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because Emily takes a long time to wake up in the morning," Hotch told his son seriously. "We need to be extra nice because it's Christmas." And he had a feeling it was going to overwhelm Emily anyway. He smiled as he followed his son, dragging two stockings, back into his bedroom. Emily looked up, her brows knitting together as she took in Jack's load. Hotch handed her both her mug and his, dropping first the stockings, then his son onto the covers.

"What is this?" Emily asked. "Room service?"

"For coffee only," Hotch replied, climbing onto to the bed. "And stockings."

"I see that. Did Santa bring you one too?"

He mirrored the quirk of her mouth as he took one of the mugs back from her. "No. He brought one for you."

The look on her face in that instant was better than he'd thought it was going to be. "He did what?"

"You got a stocking," Jack repeated on his father's behalf. "I guess Daddy was a bad boy and didn't get a stocking."

Emily was looking at the velvet stocking, stuffed to the hilt and smiling. "Actually, Jack, he dropped it off at my apartment because he wasn't sure if he was going to get a chance to come by here. But I guess he did because you have a stocking and I have a stocking."

"Can I open it, Daddy?"

Hotch was still a little stuck on the fact that she'd thought to pack him a stocking. "Sure."

Emily pulled Jack into her lap, allowing Hotch to squeeze closer. Her hand went up into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. "What did you get?"

"I can't believe you put together a stocking," he said under his breath as his son all but tore through the annual stocking tradition.

"You did one for me."

"But you didn't know that at the time," he argued. "It's my favourite tradition."

"Mine too," she admitted, smiling widely as Jack held up one of the dinosaur toys Santa had brought for Jack's stocking. "I thought it was an important one to share."

He kissed her temple again. "Thank you."

"You haven't even seen the stocking yet," she said with a laugh as Jack turned to her an expectant look on his face. He'd torn through that particular portion of the morning. Emily, on the other hand, took her time, pulling little things like fun pens that reminded her of Garcia, and a trashy magazine, from the stocking as well as a book by her favourite author and chocolate.

"More, Daddy, more!"

Hotch grinned. "By all means. Let's go open more presents."

* * *

Emily had arranged to spend Boxing Day with Anne and the girls, which left her Christmas night free for Hotch to come to her apartment for dinner. And he had. They'd eaten well and Emily's nerves that had crept up on her between his place and hers had pretty much startled her. He'd opened his stocking and present now and the two of them were cuddled together on her couch watching a Christmas special.

He'd looked so incredibly dejected as he entered her apartment only hours earlier and she couldn't really blame him. He'd actually called on his way back from Haley's to ask if she would mind terribly if he came early. Emily rolled with the punches and told him that it was perfectly fine. She wasn't about to leave him at home alone when he'd just dropped his son off at his ex-wife's house.

"Thank you," Hotch murmured into her hair.

"For what?" Emily replied, genuinely confused.

He smiled. "For this Christmas, for sharing your traditions with me, for letting me see this side of you."

"You don't have to thank me for that," she replied, tilting her head back.

He kissed her, happy to oblige the invitation. "This is one of my best Christmases," he admitted.

"Mine too,' she agreed. "And it's all thanks to you."

He hummed, low and in his chest, making Emily shiver. "It was my pleasure."

She sighed, relaxing even more and pressing herself against him softly. "I would have never guessed, even two months ago, that we'd end up here on Christmas Day."

"Together?" he inquired. "Or in this exact spot."

"Both," Emily admitted honestly. "I don't usually let people into my home."

"Things are changing," Hotch said with a smile.

There wasn't a single bone in Emily's body that wanted to contradict that. There was no way she could. "I think so too."

"For the better?"

Her words were mumbled against his lips. "For the better," she agreed and sealed her mouth to his.

* * *

**_Well, ladies, gentlemen and faithful readers, this marks the end of 2008's Annual Christmas story. _**

**_I hope everyone has been having a good holiday, or had a good holiday for those of you who don't get 2 weeks off like I do. For those of you who celebrate Christmas, Merry Christmas to you all. For those who don't, happy holidays!_**

**_Thanks to everyone who has faithfully read and reviewed. You guys have, in many ways that you are not even aware of, helped me figure out where this story is going and some of the chapters have been based solely around suggestions people have given me. _**

**_Thanks again!_**


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